May 19, 1965, Maria D^browska died in Warsaw, a major writer and a moral force in her nation under several vastly different political regimes. Never an habituee of literary cafes, all through her life she remained a provincial in the same noble sense that Flaubert had been a provincial in France and Faulkner in the United States ? an uninhibited artist contributing to universal values, not as a cosmopolitan, only as a supremely civilized voice coming from a backwater. That salt-of-the earth quality of her work was never belied by the public attitudes of the frail looking woman; in an age of political promiscuity and moral indifference she grew into a monolithic figure respected by both friends and foes. D%browska was born in 1892 in Central Poland, near Kalisz, a Polish town mentioned by Ptolemy in the second century of our era as Calisia, a storage center on the Roman trading route called the Amber Trail. The fact of having been born into a family of country squires deep rooted in native history had some bearing on D^browska's formation as a writer. Indeed, not even two world wars, the German occupation and a Communist revolution succeeded in changing her world-outlook. A foreigner who would read her books could say that he really knew a certain type of Polish people, perhaps the best people, those with staying power. She entered the public scene early as a social worker, with the co operative movement as her main interest. One of her pamphlets at that time bore the title: On Everyday Work: the work and thought of Poland's upper class, not of finance and aristocracy, but of national leadership. Her mind was pragmatic, liberal, objective. Doctrines did not mean much to her. In an article published in 1935 on the Russian brand of socialism (Rozmyslania na czasie [Timely Reflections], Wiadomosci Literackie [Literary News]) that attitude was sharply out lined; political and economic theory, she maintained, is good if it in creases human well-being; well-being must never be limited to a