Orthodox writer Valentina Ivanovna Tsvetkova was born in 1936 in the village. Nikolskoye Saratov region. Later she moved to study in Samara. A teacher by training, she had direct contact with children for many years. And this is felt in her stories. Knowledge of child psychology allowed Valentina Ivanovna to write her stories in a language that children can easily and naturally understand. Therefore, her works are read with interest not only by children, but also by adults, because in essence, we are all, to some extent, big children.
V.I. Tsvetkova has collaborated with various Orthodox newspapers, in particular with the Samara “Blagovest” and the Ryazan “Blagovest”. She has lived in Ryazan since 1999 and continues to work on new works, which we hope will soon be published.
Wonderful
Granny, please buy me some markers today,” Vitya asked his grandmother in the morning.
“I’ll buy it,” she answered, tying a scarf on her head.
Well then, grandma, let's go quickly!
Wait, Vitenka, I’ll take the pies out of the oven and treat Agafya Semyonovna on the way.
Ah, this is the one who always sits in the same place, and whoever doesn’t approach her bows low to everyone, even if I walk and don’t give her anything. The boys and I deliberately walked past her several times, and each time she stood up and bowed. Something wonderful!
But this should not be done! - Grandma got angry. - Firstly, she is my first teacher, and secondly, you yourself noticed that she does not bow for alms. You should have thought about this.
What do you think, she’s just wonderful. And they say she had a double-headed eagle.
Vitya, you misunderstood and are retelling it to others, and this is a sin. - Grandma, but that’s what everyone says.
And you keep quiet. After all, you haven’t seen it yourself, it’s better to listen to what I tell you about it. In those distant years, when I was little, students were not allowed to wear crosses. The teachers, of course, knew that we were wearing them, but tried not to notice. Our young teacher Agafya Semyonovna took the crosses off two girls and threw them into the corner. We were so scared, we thought the teacher would die right away. And she said: “You see, nothing happened!” And she continued teaching the lesson. After this incident, many lost their fear of the shrine. After some time, Agafya Semyonovna gave birth to a child. I saw him myself: instead of one head, he had two small heads. From then on, she seemed to close herself off from everyone, although she was among people and bowed to everyone passing by. And the Lord forgave her and even rewarded her with a gift. She sees on the head of everyone who passes by, as it were, a mark - what kind of person he is. And to those who knew her closely, Agafya Semyonovna said that we should greet each other with bows and honor God with bows. So that they bow before the icons several times a day.
Granny, I’m ashamed to pass by her now.
And you give her a pie and bow too.
“She’ll see that I’m lying,” Vitya hesitated. - After all, I have markers, but I’m still asking for them.
Well, it’s good that he confessed.
This means that you no longer need to go to the store. And granny, come on, I’ll take the pie to her anyway. She will see that I am no longer lying!
Akathist
Sveta, Natasha and Lida came to the library to change spiritual books, and the adults asked them: “Did you read it so quickly?” The girls were embarrassed, but still asked: “Please give us a thick Bible to read.” - “It’s still early for you. “You’re still reading little,” said the head of the library, “we can give you about the lives of the saints.” And she herself holds an akathist to St. Nicholas in her hands. Lida, the girl is nearsighted, and keeps squinting when she tries to read something. Here she is reading aloud from the akathist: “Rejoice, pleasant care for those who mourn...” To the surprise of the adults, Lida cited an incident to confirm these words. She spoke with such faith that her eyes shone with the sky.
When I was not yet in the world, one aunt bought a cow at the market and took it home. I must say that she lived in a distant village. The cow was skinny, at first it walked quietly, then it lay down in the middle of the road and didn’t want to walk. Aunt caressed her and whipped her, but she did not get up. Aunt cried and began to ask God. I remembered that we also need to call for an ambulance assistant - Nikolai: “Our assistant, saint of God Nikolai, help bring the cow home. I have children without a breadwinner-father. They are waiting for milk, but the cow dies.”
Auntie bursts into tears. God, seeing this, sent an old man. He comes towards me with a twig, he pats the cow, she gets up and walks away. When the old man began to leave, he said goodbye: “You, young lady, drive the cow into the courtyard of the last house, and whatever they give you there, take it, don’t refuse.”
That's exactly what she did. Two old women let her spend the night and fed her. And the cow was not left without food and drink.
The next morning they gave us a hotel for the trip. And the cow rested overnight and quickly ran home...
Her friends laugh at Lida: “You haven’t lived in the world yet, but you tell it as if you saw everything with your own eyes.” Lida smiled: “But it’s true! It was! The young woman is alive. This is my own grandmother, she told us everything. And St. Nicholas the Wonderworker herself did not forget, and she taught us to honor him. She and I read the akathist every Thursday.”
The girls chose books and left, and the adults were surprised by the deep faith, simplicity, sincerity and decided: “Let the children read the thick Bible, because they receive wisdom not from adults, but from the grace of God.”
Blind boy
This one was a long time ago. In the winter, in the evenings, our whole family sat on a large Russian stove. There were six of us children. It’s frosty outside, there’s a blizzard, the wind is humming in the chimney, but it’s so nice on the stove, warm from the bricks. If you want, lie down, if you want, sit. And so that they could see each other, they lit a lamp with a glass bubble in the shape of an elongated pear. And in the corner of the hut, in the most visible place, a lamp was burning in front of the icon. And everything is so cozy, joyful, calm, quiet. Some people made a “royal palace” out of pumpkin seeds, others simply peeled them and ate them. The younger ones did this, and the older ones knitted lace, sorted wool and fluff. We so wanted to touch the fluff and fur with our hands and roll them into little balls, but we couldn’t. They are needed for socks and mittens. And the elders rolled the balls for us from cow wool, which is not suitable for use. The ball turned out well: it’s soft and bounces like rubber. And the cow enjoys being scratched. So. We are sitting on the stove, but we are not silent. Mom quietly sings a prayer. “To the King of Heaven...” Every business is always started with her because the Holy Spirit is called upon to help. And then they tell stories one by one: scary ones, funny ones, and ones like this one, about a blind boy.
This boy was born sighted, but one day he became very ill and went blind.
At first no one had any idea, because he was still a baby and was crawling on the floor. And when his mother put a ball of wool next to him, the baby began to look for it with his little hands and did not find it. We went to the doctor, but it was too late. You get used to any grief, and you get used to your blind son.
But the Lord made him so wise that you would not immediately think that he was blind. The boy's eyes were clear, beautiful, open. He moved carefully, but reached the door without a wand. He himself went to the well to get water for the cow. That's how they understood each other, as if faithful friends. He took care of her bed: he carefully sorted out the straw so that there was not a pebble or a lump of dung. And he fed her fragrant hay with strawberries. Zorka chews hay, and the blind boy strokes her. The little cow will lie down, and he will sit down on her warm side and fall asleep next to her. Zorka will turn, sigh and warm him with warm steam. Mom is looking for her son, everyone is already getting ready for dinner, and she always finds the boy at Zorka’s side. One day dad announced: We’ll sell Zorka for meat. The blind boy quickly left the hut. Mom hears: someone is crying in the barn, telling someone something. She listened, looked closely, and it was her blind son praying to God for help so that Zorka would not be sold for meat. Then he hugged the cow by the neck and cried. But Zorka understands everything, but she can’t say anything, and tears flow in streams from the huge cow eyes with long eyelashes. Mom saw all this, but said nothing. And at dinner, dad clarified: although Zorka gives not enough milk for such a large family, but God willing, she will bring us a calf and add more milk. Everyone was happy, but most of all the blind son.
Jesus Prayer
The blind boy had other friends besides Zorka the cow. I will tell you about everyone in order. Dick the cat and Whitelegs the cat hovered around his feet all the time and never left. If in winter a blind boy went to see Zorka in the barn, they would wait for him at the doorstep. As soon as the door creaks, they immediately run to the boy as fast as they can. He liked to sit not on a chair, but on the floor. The cats were happy about this, rubbed their sides, purred, and sat on his legs. When the boy had something edible in his pocket, he took it out of his pocket, always blew it away from the crumbs, crossed himself and said: “Lord, bless!” That's what he always did. And then he ate it himself and gave the cats a piece.
If a blind boy got up at night to pray while everyone was sleeping, Dick and Whitelegs would find him and sit next to him, turning their faces to the icons. Everyone left together: the boy went to the stove to sleep (or in the summer on the floor), and the cats under the floor to scare the mice.
In the spring and summer, they went out with the boy and walked on either side of his feet. So the cats led the boy along the path to the well. The well was difficult, but necessary work. Sometimes we had to pull out up to two hundred buckets of water, because there was a lot of cabbage, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions and everything else growing in the garden. The family is big.
And so the blind brother gets water from the well, and little sisters, the brothers run races and pour it into their beds and holes. It was always fun, the blind brother encouraged, praised for Good work waterers.
And when the younger ones got tired and asked: “Will we finish soon?” To this he replied: “No, only half of it has been watered.” The waterers objected to him: “No, no, everyone was watered. You can’t see!” The blind boy, smiling, said: “I see, water your beds again, otherwise I hear them asking: drink, drink!” Children listen and even lay their ear to the garden bed and actually hear that the earth is “huffing” from the heat. Then they watered again, and the earth no longer asked for water. The blind boy suddenly announced to his sisters and brothers: “That’s it, take the last bucket and we’ll finish.” How did he know that the beds were saturated with water? It turns out that he was reading the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!” He will prepare the stones in advance and place them at his feet. As soon as he pulls the bucket out of the well, he says a prayer, and throws away the pebble from his foot. When the pebbles run out, then all two hundred buckets of water are pulled out. This moisture is enough for the garden, but for the soul I read the prayer two hundred times. This is how the Lord made him wise: he, blind, protected us with his spiritual eyes.
Pea
Once a grandmother came to help her grandchildren sow peas. They were happy with her, because she always spoke kind words. Even dad became kinder, didn’t scold his children, and called grandma mom. It's so simple. “Where it’s simple, there are up to a hundred angels, and where it’s tricky, there’s not a single one,” says the grandmother. - Without an angel, as without a guide, it is impossible to find roads on an unknown path, much less enter the Kingdom of Heaven. There you need to go through three doors at the same time.” - “How is this possible, grandma? - the grandchildren ask, “Tell me!” - “It’s difficult, my dears. These doors are located one after another and open only for one moment. These doors are tall and heavy, and the person standing in front of them is like a small pea. He steps into the first one, and the second one immediately closes in front of him - and the person is trapped, in pitchless darkness. For a moment, all the doors open again, you step into the second door, and the front one closes... You can’t get through alone without help. So we need an assistant - an angel or a holy saint - to hold the doors and the person to run through them. Behind them is freedom, such a vastness that you can’t even glance at it.
There is a sloping mountain ahead, but you can’t see what’s behind it yet. If a person turns back, the doors are gone. Only he will clearly see his footprints, as in the snow. They are crooked and at random, straight and in circles. Go, brother-man, look ahead and say prayer all the time - then you will reach the Kingdom of Heaven.” - “Granny, are there any sweets in this kingdom?” - “What more! The person has no idea what awaits him there.”
Granddaughter Mashenka swallowed her saliva and felt the pocket with her pen - she really wanted candy. He sees that the grandmother is holding something in her mouth. “Grandma, please give me one piece of candy.” - “This is not candy, my dear, but a pea.” - “Why do you keep it in your mouth all the time?” - “I say a prayer - it means I say: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.” But the pea in your mouth gets in the way and reminds you: do good deeds and don’t forget prayer - together they will lead you to the Kingdom of Heaven. Just don’t stop.”
Granddaughter Mashenka put a pea in her mouth, took a basket in her hands and quickly went to plant it in order to keep up with her grandmother. After all, everyone must achieve the Kingdom of Heaven through their own labor.
Carousels
Granny, look at the striped beetle that flew into the window and is hitting the mirror,” said Nastya. “I drove him away with a handkerchief, but he didn’t fly away.”
This, granddaughter, he saw someone like himself and was carried away,” the grandmother answered with a smile.
Nastya and her little brother began to wave their arms and direct the beetle towards the window.
“He’s stubborn, like you, Vasya,” the girl got angry, “he’s flying towards the mirror again.”
And the grandmother lightly pressed the beetle and released it out the window. He flew and buzzed.
Nastenka and Vasya are happy - that means he’s alive. Granny, looking out the window, sighed:
Until someone enlightens and guides, the weak may die. Especially if he forgets the way back.
Granny, how can we find the way back? - Vasya asked.
According to signs, my good one. You have to hold on to them, like an invisible rope.
Is it like on a carousel? - Nastya clarified.
My good girl, you suggested very well. When you spin on a carousel, everything around you flashes quickly, it’s interesting and the height takes your breath away. But don’t forget to hold on to the rope - otherwise you may fall and get seriously hurt. Then you will forget about everything. And who is to blame? Himself, of course. I got carried away and forgot about the string and let it slip out of my hands. You will harm yourself and offend the good owner of the carousel. You promised him to hold on. And he tied the other end to himself and decided to show you all the beauty of heaven, so that you would strive there.
Grandma, our Vasya is afraid of heights,” Nastya said.
Grandmother smiled:
But he loves to pray to God and he has obedience. For this, our Creator will raise Vasya to great heights. And with the Lord God, nowhere is scary.
Can girls reach this height? - the granddaughter is interested.
Everything is possible, my sweeties. Just hold on to the rope, and don’t tear yourself away from the Creator God.
Granny, I understand. I will, like Vasya, pray and always obey my elders.
Grandmother crossed them and began to cry. The grandchildren were scared:
Granny, what's wrong with you?
Nothing, my dears. I am so glad that you understood everything so well.
“I believe” for the faithful
In the village everyone knows about each other: who went where and why... If I go to left side from the house, then to the club, and if to the right, then to the church.
That day I went to church, because it was the great holiday of the Nativity of Christ. I didn’t understand what they sang and read in the church, but I remembered for the rest of my life how candles were burning in everyone’s hands, how they sang in chorus, the whole church.
I felt solemn and joyful in my soul. Suddenly I heard someone quietly say: “Without people, the earth is an orphan.” These words of wisdom said blessed Nyurushka, or “the simple one,” as she was called in our village. I was amazed at how her face brightened when they sang “I Believe.” People were moved to tears when she told someone that they were “pleasing to God.” The man said: “Nyurushka, I am a sinner.” “But you’re still faithful,” she reassured. I liked this word: somehow reliable, happy. For myself, I concluded: if you are faithful, then you don’t need to wish for anything better.
When leaving the temple, I again heard a whisper:
Are you married, Nyurushka?
No no! I made a vow to God.
Take this pie... Maybe you have nothing at home...
What are you... That's a lump of butter. I never eat it on Wednesdays and Fridays, so it will last for a long time.
I don’t want to enjoy myself with the traitor Judas these days.
Then I thought: “That’s it! But I didn’t know that.”
Aunt Nyura, here's some candy for you. Pray for me.
You will be saved, son. “I Believe” I sang with the faithful. But give the prosphora to your neighbor, she is sick. Stay with God.
She bowed and left. These Nyurushki are the faithful, they are God’s Pleasers, and from them we are saved.
Live pictures
Nikita, today we will learn to write numbers, we need to get ready for school.
Dad, I already know them well. And he quickly wrote down the numbers of the first ten. His father gave him a three. Nikita approached Barsik to complain. The cat followed the numbers with his green eyes, then scratched the piece of paper with his paw and hid under the table.
Even Barsik noticed your mistake with the number six, in right side the curl is being written... Well, the reading lesson will be in the garden.
Dad moved his hand from left to right and somehow solemnly said:
This is all that you see, our Lord, the Creator, created, and everything is in this living book. Look carefully at everything,” dad continued, “notice, and in a small bug you will discover a miracle, because the Creator created everyone and everything for the common good. How can I explain it more clearly to you? For example, a mail beetle flies with an order, it’s not a difficult matter, right? But if the flight slows down willfully and does not arrive on time, disaster will happen for everyone. Even morning may not come if the sun is late to rise. And the darkness will remain, the night will be eternal - scary! So I say, everyone must fulfill the will of the Creator impeccably and urgently. In this “living” book, a person needs to unravel a lot. Why does a tree grow in a garden? Find out, pick, eat. Why does the violet bloom in different colors? Why does the sunflower turn its head behind the sun? Some flowers close their petals tightly at night, like a padlock, and in the morning they invite bees to visit and collect pollen. And why doesn’t honey sour? But it is always sweet and fragrant, and yet it is not made by a person, but only by a bee insect. Know! That life was given to man on earth mainly for the purpose of solving these problems. Learn to distinguish the Master - the Creator Himself - from His counterfeits.
Nikita laughed: “How can you, dad, compare a living artist with some of his pictures - “daubs.” The artist will want to erase the picture or draw it again with wings or horns. What can a picture do for an artist? - The Creator? She herself can only fade and turn into aphids.”
Okay, son, you reason, I’ll be calm for you. And now you still have to love the Creator more than yourself. After all, He also made us, people. Don’t forget, our fatherland is Heaven. Be worthy of the Creator to be returned there! And life on earth is short, like a dream. Remember this, dear child! Just don’t get carried away by artificial pictures, because trouble came to people from them.
Mysterious clearing
On the road we met an old man, so handsome and attractive: thick white hair on his head, a thick, curly beard and greenish eyes with languid eyes. A good-natured, apologetic smile. He kept looking out the window and seemed to be wondering, calculating something in his mind, and then suddenly he perked up and called us to the window. “Look carefully,” said the old man, “remember everything you see in this place.”
We obeyed and began to closely examine the clearing from the train window and hastily informed him: “There is a horse grazing, a motley cow, a white goat, lilac bushes, birch trees, dandelions. And a very wide clearing, but no human habitation is visible.”
A little later the old man calmed down and told us a story...
“One day my horse brought me to this clearing. I was amazed by its beauty, silence and something else, inexplicable. I get off my horse and go, enjoying the contemplation of the wondrous beauty. And I stop in surprise: near my feet lies a nest with chicken eggs. There is no human habitation, but the chicken lives and lays eggs. Now, I think there will be scrambled eggs. I’m wondering where I should put them so they don’t break. And, without raising my head yet, out of the corner of my eye I see some kind of shadow. I look: it’s a girl! Speaks:
Don't take the eggs from the nest, otherwise you will deprive Velvet of her joy!
Where's the chicken? - I asked.
She'll come soon.
And who are you? - I asked her again.
I'm Maryushka. I take care of animals.
Who are you guarding?
Fry. He is more beautiful than your horse. I decided to argue with her: it couldn’t be more beautiful than my horse! She warned:
Malek will not come out of the thicket if he hears our conversation.
Where should I hide to look at him? At least with one eye. Maryushka said:
There's no need to hide. Keep your eyes open, just be silent, otherwise you'll scare them away.
I promised to remain silent. She called in a shrill, gentle voice:
And he immediately appeared from the thicket of the forest, with silky long mane, with a swan neck... I froze with delight, and then whistled: “What a horse!” At the sound, Malek began to run headlong and disappeared into the thicket.
I began to explain to Maryushka: “You can’t keep such a handsome man alone, without friends.” She paused and answered:
- We are his friends!
And I mockingly:
Is it you with the chicken?
And Maryushka said without offense:
Well, why, there is also Kalinka.
Who else is this? - I asked, barely containing my irritation, because I was completely impressed by the wonderful horse.
And Maryushka, not noticing my inappropriate anger, told me that Kalinka had recently given birth to a daughter. She says and rejoices, and I keep looking at the forest to see if the horse will run out...
Well,” I urge the girl, “call your Kalinka, we’ll see her too.”
No! We must approach it ourselves.
I had to give in - let's go look. I saw a motley cow, Kalinka, with a calf that was swaying, standing on four legs, and they were moving apart in different directions. I thought: “What a miracle - a cow! What is there to admire here? Not a horse!”
And Maryushka, as if reading my thoughts, says:
She is an extraordinary cow - destitute and undeservedly punished. At the owner's house, she broke everything in her path, turned it over, and once ended up in the cellar. And the owner decided to get rid of her. And when we ran to this clearing, I took a closer look and realized: she turns out to be blind. The owners took pity, did not take her away from me, and Kalinka and I began to live in this clearing. She is an orphan and I am an orphan. The blind horse was also brought here, and we accept all the disadvantaged. Love each other. People call me a servant, a nun.
The old man asked with concern: “So, Maryushka still has a white goat?” - and continued:
“How do you live,” I asked her then.
God helps. He doesn’t forget about us, he consoles us and doesn’t give us offense. Our dugout is like a barn, but in our soul it’s heaven! When I sing a prayer, the angels sing along with me, and the aroma then is like in a garden in spring. You can't say it in words. And someone is lighting our dugout.
I asked Maryushka:
Does this happen often? She answered:
Always when the Lord Himself wishes. I have asked:
Girl, pray for me! I'm full of sins. He set his foot on the holy place. Just as Moses was shown a burning thorn bush, so now, in the time of half-believers, it was revealed to me on whom the light stands!
Maryushka smiled and prayed. And at parting she punished me:
You pray yourself. The Lord will not save you without you.
That's all I know about her and I never forget...
You saw for yourself just now - Maryushka now has the goat.”
Grandfather fell silent. We, the “half-believers,” were very surprised and realized that our land was full of secrets.
Page 1 of 5
ABOUT FAITH
Epiphany
At one Moscow school, a boy stopped going to classes. He hasn't been walking for a week or two...
Leva didn’t have a phone, and his classmates, on the advice of the teacher, decided to go to his house.
Levi's mother opened the door. Her face was very sad.
The guys greeted each other and timidly asked;
Why doesn't Leva go to school? Mom sadly replied:
He will no longer study with you. He had surgery. Unsuccessful. Lyova is blind and cannot walk on his own...
The guys were silent, looked at each other, and then one of them suggested:
And we will take turns taking him to school.
And accompany you home.
“And we’ll help you do your homework,” classmates chirped, interrupting each other.
Tears welled up in my mother's eyes. She led her friends into the room. A little later, feeling the way with his hand, Lyova came out to them with a blindfold.
The guys froze. Only now did they truly understand what a misfortune had happened to their friend. Leva said with difficulty:
Hello.
And then it rained down from all sides:
I'll pick you up tomorrow and take you to school.
And I'll tell you what we studied in algebra.
And I'm in history.
Leva didn’t know who to listen to and just nodded his head in confusion. Tears rolled down my mother's face.
After leaving, the guys made a plan - who would come in when, who would explain what subjects, who would walk with Lyova and take him to school.
At school, the boy who sat at the same desk with Lyova quietly told him during the lesson what the teacher was writing on the board.
And how the class froze when Lyova answered! How everyone rejoiced at his A's, even more than their own!
Leva studied well. The whole class began to study better. In order to explain a lesson to a friend in trouble, you need to know it yourself. And the guys tried. Moreover, in the winter they began to take Lyova to the skating rink. The boy loved it very much classical music, and classmates went with him to symphony concerts...
Lev graduated from school with a gold medal, then entered college. And there were friends who became his eyes.
After college, Leva continued to study and eventually became a world-famous mathematician, academician Pontryagin.
There are countless people who have seen the light for good.
Is this a friend?
About one country, scientists have created a robot that is capable of learning. They named him Saik. Saik can remember any information and answer any question. Well, just an excellent student, only made of metal and plastic.
He is more obedient than you. The older you become, the more willful and stubborn you become. But Saik only acts according to the programs embedded in him. He won’t even do a good deed unless ordered.
A blind man stands at an intersection and cannot cross the street - he does not see the traffic light. You'll quickly figure out what to do, right? But this is not the case with Syke. If this is not provided for by the program, it will stand there like a traffic light and blink its lights.
They asked Saik:
Who are your parents? He replied:
I do not have parents. I computer program, not a living being.
And what do you can?
I remember what I was taught. I can perceive various information and process it.
They asked the computer boy:
Saik, what are your tasks?
Constantly accumulate knowledge and share it with people.
Knowledge is, of course, good... But is that really all that matters? What are they without warmth and kindness?
Would you like a friend like this? Hardly. There is no soul in it. Can't love. And without love, is it really a friend?!
And in general, if you don’t love, then why live?
My mushroom! My!
Grandfather and grandson went into the forest to pick mushrooms. The grandfather is an experienced mushroom picker and knows the secrets of the forest. He walks well, but bends down with difficulty - his back may not straighten if he bends sharply.
The grandson is nimble. He notices where grandfather rushed - and then, right there. While the grandfather bows to the fungus, the grandson is already shouting from under the bush:
My mushroom! I found!
Grandfather remains silent and goes on a search again. As soon as he sees the prey, the grandson again:
My mushroom!
So we returned home. The granddaughter shows his mother the full basket. She rejoices at how wonderful her mushroom picker is. And grandfather with an empty basket sighs:
Yes... Years... He's getting a little old, a little old... But maybe it's not a matter of years at all, and it's not
in mushrooms? And what is better - an empty basket or an empty soul?
The soul is lost.
The baby is crying - he has lost his mother. He doesn’t know his father’s address or last name. Where to go? Strangers They take him by the hand and lead him. Where? For what? Things happen these days. Then there will be advertisements in newspapers, on television: a boy of such and such age is lost, dressed in such and such...
We got lost too. Our soul cries, helpless in the invisible world of spirits. He knows neither the name of his Heavenly Father nor the eternal Fatherland. She doesn't know why she was given life...
Over the ravine.
There was a graduation party. The chicks fluttered out of the nest. They drank secretly. Head is spinning. And not only from wine - from an excess of strength, the desire to fly. And then there’s someone else’s car with the engine running. The owner is not visible. Well, now the whole world is theirs!
Sit down! Go! Ha ha!
And the ball is in full swing. Someone whispers tender words for the first time, someone shares a dream... Turn. Another turn.
There's a bridge there! Stop! Hit the brakes!!! Wait a minute...
The whole city mourned them. Covered the graves with flowers. A day or two later the flowers withered...
Who did you serve, sons? They never took off... They didn’t build their nest, they didn’t raise their chicks...
When you walk across the bridge, horror takes over. It's like hearing someone moan. The ravine is deep. You think about other ravines, invisible ones.
The engine of absurd desires is gaining momentum... Where are the brakes? There's an abyss ahead! Lord, give me some sense!
Smile.
Their doors were opposite. They often met at landing. One passed by, his brow furrowed, and did not even glance at his neighbor. With all his appearance he said: I have no time for you. The other smiled welcomingly. Wishes for health were already ready to roll off his tongue, but, seeing the cold inaccessibility, he lowered his eyes, the words got stuck in his throat, and his smile faded.
Years passed like this. Days flashed by, similar to one another. The neighbors were getting old. When meeting, the benevolent no longer expected a greeting and only politely gave way. But one day his granddaughter came to visit him. She was all glowing, as if the sun was shining in her eyes and smile. When the little girl met her gloomy neighbor, she joyfully exclaimed:
Hello!
The stranger stopped. He never expected this. Blue eyes, like cornflowers, looked at him. There was so much tenderness and affection in them that this stern man was even embarrassed. He did not know how to talk to neighbors and children. He was used to only giving orders. No one dared to talk to him without the secretary’s permission, but there was some kind of button... Mumbling something incomprehensible, he hurried to the car that was waiting for him at the entrance.
When the important person got into the Mercedes, the girl waved after him. The sullen neighbor pretended not to notice this. You never know what kind of small fry flashes behind the windows of a foreign car.
They met quite often. Each time the girl’s face lit up with a joyful smile, and her unearthly light made the neighbor’s soul warmer. He began to like it, and one day he even nodded in response to a ringing greeting.
Suddenly, meetings with the baby stopped. Severe noticed that a doctor was coming to the apartment opposite.
When meeting, the benevolent one still politely let the neighbor go ahead, but for some reason he was without his granddaughter. And then the gloomy man realized that it was her smile, her waving little hand that he was now missing. At work, he was greeted in a businesslike manner and smiled politely, but these were completely different smiles.
So the monotonous, boring days passed. One day the stern man could not stand it. Seeing his neighbor, he slightly raised his hat, greeted him with restraint and asked:
Where is your granddaughter? She hasn't been seen for a long time.
She got sick.
That’s how it is?.. - his grief was completely sincere.
The next time they met on the site, the gloomy one, after saying hello, opened the “diplomat.” After rummaging through his papers, he took out a bar of chocolate and muttered embarrassedly:
Tell your girl. Let him get better.
And he hurriedly trotted towards the exit. The delicate one's eyes became moist and a lump rose in his throat. He couldn’t even say thank you, he just moved his lips.
After that, when they met, they already told each other good words, and the stern one asked how his granddaughter was feeling.
And when the girl recovered and they met, the little girl rushed to her neighbor and hugged him. And the eyes of this stern man became moist.
Birds.
The birds flew in and chirped. They either greeted us or hinted that they wanted to peck at something. And I was too lazy to get out of bed and go out to the balcony.
The birds chirped and flew away. Someone else will feed them, show care, someone whose heart has awakened.
Where are they now? To whom did God send them? Whose heart are they knocking on?
Cross.
At the age of four, Deniska was left without a mother. And he knew nothing at all about his father. The mother did something terrible - she killed a woman. Everyone abandoned her and Denis. What he saw in his wanderings through orphanages, hardly anyone can tell. But the boy himself did not want to remember this.
In the end, Deniska ended up in the second grade of a boarding school. One day, a teacher, helping him get dressed, noticed a cross on a string on his thin chest.
Who gave it to you?
Do you know who this is?
Do you know why He was crucified on the cross? Denis didn’t know anything, but for some reason he
I wanted to wear a cross near my heart.
The mother was recently released from the colony, lives in an unknown place, and the cross is here. Only sometimes you have to give it away: Dima, Vova, and others wanted to vilify it... How can you refuse? The guys got it too... Vova’s mom made a den out of her apartment. Dima, although he had his own house, lived there as if abandoned, and often went hungry. So they pass the cross to each other in turns. Warms...
Soul is a Christian
The family was not a believer. One day they passed by a temple. The bells rang. A little boy of about six suddenly knelt down on the street and began to be baptized. Nobody taught him this. Maybe you saw it somewhere? Suddenly - myself!
People around them began to look at them. The mother was indignant:
Get up now! Don't shame us! And the baby answered her:
What are you doing, mom?! This is the Church!
But neither his mother nor his father understood him. They took the boy by the hands and led him away.
Christ said: “Let the children in and do not hinder them from coming to Me, for to such is the Kingdom of Heaven.” Alas, the parents did not know these words and took the baby away from Christ.
Is it really forever?
Children's confession
IN orphanage father with bright soul christened the whole group at once. They began to call the teacher, who became the children's godmother, mom. The group was friendly. Of course, things happened to them too: they could quarrel and fight. And then they come to their senses and extend their hands to each other:
I'm sorry.
And forgive me.
One day a new person appeared among them and brought with him some other, unkind spirit.
One boy's player disappeared. Who took it? It is a sin to accuse someone without evidence. Gone and gone. And then it was time for the children’s confession, for which everyone had been preparing for a long time. And suddenly this new guy confessed to the priest:
And then to the guys:
It's me, I took it! Sorry...
Everyone froze. The boy whose player disappeared said:
Let it be yours.
The minute was amazing. And one girl gave her player to this boy.
We will not mention their names. For what? God knows them. And the one who asked for forgiveness, and those who gave the player to each other.
Save me, God!
One winter, the guys who were fishing were carried out to sea on an ice floe. When it got dark, the houses realized that there were no children and made a fuss. Aviation joined the search. But try, find it in the dark. The pilot can fly right over the guys and not notice them. If only they had a flashlight or a radio transmitter. They would signal: "SOS! Save our souls..."
There was also such a case: a girl geologist got lost. Taiga all around. He doesn’t know where to go.
The girl was a believer and began to pray to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, knowing that he helps everyone. I prayed with all my heart. Suddenly he sees an old man coming. He approaches her and asks:
Where are you going, honey?
She told what happened to her and asked to show the way to some village.
The old man explained that there were no villages around.
And you,” he says, “climb this hill, you will see a house.” There are people there.
The girl looked at the hill, turned around to thank the old man, but he was no longer there, as if he had never existed.
Behind the hill, she actually found a hut, where she was warmly greeted, fed and warmed. She was told that the elder was right - there was no housing around for three hundred kilometers. What would have happened to the girl if she had not prayed?
How did the story with the boys end? Unfortunately, they did not know how to pray; their parents did not teach them. But one of them had a believing grandmother. All night she asked the Mother of God, our Helper and Intercessor, for them. She also prayed to our Lord Jesus Christ, begging Him to save the children...
The next morning the boys were found and taken off the ice floe. However, such stories happen not only at sea.
Our whole life is like a raging sea of sin, capable of swallowing every soul if it does not cry out to God: “Save, Lord!”
The voice of one crying
Nobody believed her. She entered houses, knocked on windows, and called out to everyone she met:
Save yourself! There's trouble at the reactor! All around - death! Run, close the windows, doors, take the children off the street, leave, leave!
It was Sunday. The sun shone brightly. The kids were playing on the street. What's the problem? What do you?! They would have told us, announced it on the radio... After all, there are bosses. Don't panic, girl! Are you overheated in the sun?
And she kept calling out to people... She knew that being on the street was dangerous, that you could catch a lethal dose of this death, but she kept walking... The girl saw that no one listened to her, did not believe her, but she said to everyone she met:
Save yourself!
Isn’t this how the messengers of Orthodoxy were and are met with unbelief? They were thrown into cages with wild animals, burned, driven alive under ice, rotted in prisons, and they knocked on every house and cried:
Save yourself! The enemy of the human race does not sleep and catches every soul. Fall before God! Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.
Voice in the wilderness...
A moment, just a moment...
The grandson whom I once taught to walk has grown up imperceptibly. He stretched out, became taller than me, but does not want to learn to walk before God. You tell him something, and he proudly replies:
Okay, let's figure it out.
He is on first name terms with himself.
In the evenings, the grandson often walked with his friends. My grandmother and I never let him go without a blessing, which he graciously accepted. In general, he is taciturn, but one day he came back excited and told the following story.
The house was already close. The street is deserted: no people, no cars. All that's left to do is move on tram rails- and here it is, my home yard. And suddenly - bang! A bottle thrown by some drunk from the fourth floor fell right in front of his nose and broke into pieces! A little more - and she would have hit him in the head.
A moment... Just a moment separated him from death, just half a step... The grandson looked around. Upstairs they continued to feast. There is no one around. Who would help him? And was it possible to help? But someone gave the guy this saving moment.
Now, before leaving the house, he says as if by chance:
Well, I'm off!
It means bless you, grandparents. And he stands straight. Already on "you" with a blessing.
If we believe
The kids agreed to play blind man's buff. One was blindfolded with a towel. They were convinced that he couldn’t peek, they spun him around and ran off in all directions. They started calling and clapping their hands so that he could catch them by the sound. The blindfolded boy tried to grab them, rushing at every rustle. And the guys suddenly became quiet - and not a sound, as if no one was there. But the boy is sure that they are nearby. He doesn’t see, but he believes that they are here.
Faith is confidence in the invisible as in the visible.
The mother put the baby to bed, sang him a lullaby, crossed him, kissed him and went into the next room. The baby does not see her, but believes that his mother is nearby. You just have to call her and she will come.
So we do not see God and our Intercessor, the Mother of God, but They are nearby. As soon as we call, they will be with us, although we will not see them.
Expectation
They will come to those who believe in Them. And they will come and help and protect.
If we believe it.
A cheerful company - three guys and three girls - were traveling on a bus to the golden beaches of Florida. A gentle sun, warm sand awaited them, blue water and a sea of pleasures. They loved and were loved. They gave joyful smiles to those around them. They wanted everyone around them to be happy.
A rather young man sat next to them. Every burst of joy, every burst of laughter was reflected in pain on his gloomy face. He shrank all over and withdrew even more into himself.
One of the girls couldn’t stand it and sat down next to him. She learned that the gloomy man's name was Vingo. It turned out that he had spent four years in a New York prison and was now going home. This surprised my fellow traveler even more. Why is he so sad?
Are you married? - she asked.
This simple question received a strange answer:
Don't know.
The girl asked again in confusion:
Don't you know this? Wingo said:
When I went to prison, I wrote to my wife that I would be away for a long time. If it becomes difficult for her to wait for me, if the children start asking about me, and this will hurt her... In general, if she cannot stand it, let her forget me with a clear conscience. I can understand this. “Find yourself another husband,” I wrote to her. “You don’t even have to tell me about it.”
Are you driving home without knowing what awaits you?
Yes,” Vingo answered, barely hiding his excitement.
A week ago, when I was informed that due to good behavior I would be released early, I wrote to her again. At the entrance to my hometown you will notice a large oak tree by the road. I wrote that if she needs me, then let her hang a yellow handkerchief on it. Then I'll get off the bus and go home. But if she doesn’t want to see me, then she shouldn’t do anything. I'll pass by.
It was very close to the city. The young people took the front seats and began to count the kilometers. The tension on the bus grew. Vingo closed his eyes in exhaustion. There were ten, then five kilometers left... And suddenly the passengers jumped up from their seats, began to scream and dance with joy.
Looking out the window, Vingo was petrified: all the oak branches were completely covered with yellow scarves. Trembling in the wind, they welcomed the man returning to his home.
How will the Lord meet us if we return to Him with repentance?
With joy, for He Himself promised: “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people.”
At least every day
he still remembers the cloud, although thirty years have passed. It happened in the village of Danilovichi, near Gomel.
People have forgotten God. Rivers began to turn and seas were created. They imagined themselves to be gods. How to reason with them?
And there was a drought. Not a drop of rain fell in a month. The grasses drooped and turned yellow, everything burned. What should I do? If the crop perishes, famine cannot be avoided. And the collective farmers trudged to the chairman with a request to allow them to serve a prayer service in the field with the priest, icons and church hymns. And times were terrible then. The authorities tried to close the remaining churches and disperse the miraculously surviving priests, so that there would be no Orthodox spirit left on earth.
The chairman was in complete despair. And the plan must be carried out, and he is afraid of hunger, and of godless authorities. And I feel sorry for the people - how will they survive? He waved his hand - serve your prayer service!
For three days the whole world fasted, not even feeding the cattle. And there is not a cloud in the sky. Finally, people went into the field with icons and prayers. In front is Feodosia's father in full regalia. Everyone is crying out to God, all souls seem to have merged into one in repentance: “Forgive us, Lord, for we have decided to live without You. Lord, have mercy...”
And suddenly they see a cloud appearing on the horizon. At first it was small, and then the whole sky over the field became clouded. How they all cried out to God! And it started to rain. And not just rain, but real downpour! The Lord watered the earth.
The chairman rejoiced: “Pray at least every day!” And what’s surprising is that not a single drop fell in the neighboring areas.
The son of Father Theodosius was then five years old. Now he himself has become a priest. His father's name is Fedor. You ask him about the cloud, his worried face and he brightens up. Is it possible to forget that shower of Divine grace? Now Father Fedor is building the Church of All Saints so that people do not die from spiritual thirst.
Shield
Went to Crimean War Colonel Andrei Karamzin, son of the famous historian who wrote the famous “History of the Russian State”. How to protect the life of a dear brother? The sisters sewed the ninetieth psalm into his uniform, in which the following words:
My refuge and my defense, my God in whom I trust! He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, from the fatal plague, He will cover you with His feathers, and you will be safe under His wings; shield and fence - His truth.
Such was the belief in Orthodox families: holy words will protect better than any shield.
Andrei Karamzin remained unharmed in all battles. But one day, before a battle, he was too lazy to change into the uniform that contained the saving lines, and at the very beginning of the battle he was killed on the spot.
Is this a coincidence?
With a shrine
The enemy was aiming straight for the heart. He hit for sure, without missing a beat. But the bullet did not touch the officer’s chest; it got stuck in the copper icon of St. Nicholas. Officer Boris Savinov walked with this shrine along the terrible roads of war - from Moscow to Konigsberg, fought at Stalingrad, on the Southern and Belorussian fronts. He was wounded several times, lay in hospitals, but his heart was guarded on all fiery roads by the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. Prayers also protected him, for he had been a believer since childhood, and even managed to become a deacon before the war. Boris was also protected by the prayers of his grandfather and father, who were shot after the revolution for being priests. But God has no dead. Everyone is alive with Him. Didn't they pray for their grandson and son when he went into battle when the enemy was aiming at him?
Believing in God and relying on Him, the officer was amazingly courageous. If he wore all his battle medals, his chest would shine. He also had the rare Order of Alexander Nevsky, and the Order of the Red Banner, Red Star, Patriotic War first and second degrees, and many medals. After the war, the brave officer became a priest. Father Boris restored the church in the village of Turki near Bobruisk, then in the city of Msti-Slavl. Now he is a priest in Mogilev.
And the icon that saved him is kept in the Trinity-Sergius Lavra.
Duel
They tried to escape. Such people are called refugees. But what kind of refugees are they? Many of them, let alone running, did not know how to walk. They were held in their arms, pressed to their chests. And yet they fled for their lives.
There were battles for every meter of Crimea. Children, helpless old people, the wounded - those who could not fight - were put on ships to be transported to the Taman Peninsula. There was salvation there. But we still had to swim there. And death raged over Crimea. The day before, a ship with seriously wounded people was sunk by fascist aircraft. Just to get past the Kerch Strait...
Suddenly German planes appeared in the sky. The weather was clear and visibility was excellent. Flying just above the deck, the masters of death saw children's heads, stretchers with the sick, and perhaps saw the faces of children gripped by horror. And, looking at the defenseless, they indifferently dropped bombs and pressed the triggers of machine guns.
The fascists roared over the heads of the children, dropping their deadly load, and then again gained altitude so that, turning around, they could aim properly and not miss this time.
The refugees could not see the eyes of their killers, covered with helmets. What was in these looks? The excitement of players honing their skills? Hatred? The desire to destroy children specifically, so that this people has no future? Or did they automatically carry out the inhumane order? It's as simple as clicking computer game, button. A bomb will explode and someone will no longer be alive. Again and again they gained altitude and turned the planes around...
And then a little girl came out to duel with flying death. She stood on the bow of the ship and... began to pray. The Nazis covered it with lead. She answered them with prayer. The howl and roar of exploding bombs and the chatter of machine guns drowned out the words, but the girl continued to pray to the Lord for help.
The ships released a smoke screen. How unreliable this protection is, which can dissipate at any moment... But God, having heard the words of a child’s prayer, commanded the breeze to blow across the ships so that the smoke would cover them, and the Nazis would needlessly scatter their deadly cargo.
The fascist planes retreated without damaging any of the ships or hitting the praying girl. They flew away. But what will these pilots say to the Creator when they appear before Him?
The refugees went ashore safe and sound. And everyone thanked the little girl with tears and gave her something, because everyone understood that a miracle had happened: a child’s prayer saved thousands of people from certain death.
We don't know this girl's name. She was so small... But what a huge, saving faith lived in her heart!
Back to life
Based on the story "Seryozha" by A. Dobrovolsky
Usually the brothers' beds were next to each other. But when Seryozha fell ill with pneumonia, Sasha was moved to another room and was forbidden to disturb the baby. They just asked me to pray for my brother, who was getting worse and worse.
One evening Sasha looked into the patient’s room. Seryozha lay with his eyes open, seeing nothing and barely breathing. Frightened, the boy rushed to the office, from which the voices of his parents could be heard. The door was ajar, and Sasha heard his mother, crying, say that Seryozha was dying. Dad answered with pain in his voice:
Why cry now? He can't be saved anymore...
In horror, Sasha rushed to his sister’s room. There was no one there, and he fell to his knees in front of the icon, sobbing. Mother of God hanging on the wall. Through the sobs the words broke through:
Lord, Lord, make sure that Seryozha does not die!
Sasha's face was flooded with tears. Everything around blurred as if in a fog. The boy saw in front of him only the face of the Mother of God. The sense of time disappeared.
Lord, You can do anything, save Seryozha!
It was already completely dark. Exhausted, Sasha stood up with the corpse and lit the table lamp. The Gospel lay before her. The boy turned a few pages, and suddenly his gaze fell on the line: “Go, and as you have believed, so be it for you...”
As if he had heard an order, he went to Seryozha. Mom sat silently at the bedside of her beloved brother. She gave a sign: “Don’t make noise, Seryozha fell asleep.”
Words were not spoken, but this sign was like a ray of hope. He fell asleep - that means he’s alive, that means he will live!
Three days later, Seryozha could already sit in bed, and the children were allowed to visit him. They brought their brother’s favorite toys, a fortress and houses that he had been cutting and gluing before his illness - everything that could please the baby. Sis with big doll stood next to Seryozha, and Sasha, jubilantly, took a photograph of them.
These were moments of real happiness.
Ascended
Shortly before this happened, Sasha told his mother:
I saw two holy angels in a dream. They took me by the hands and carried me to heaven.
Two days later he was killed. A little older guys killed him, they coveted him new jacket. Mom saved money for it for a long time, gave it to her son, and now...
How could this happen?
Mom told me that even when he was very young, Sasha loved to go to church. I tried not to miss a single Sunday service. Then I started attending Sunday school...
Perhaps the boy was already ready to meet the Savior.
Only God knows this.
The kingdom of heaven to you, Sashenka!
To the world above
One boy wanted to go sledding down the hill. There are sleds, and the mountain is not far, but my parents won’t let me go - they’re afraid that I’ll get infected from my peers with something dangerous to my soul. He will see enough bad examples or hear a bad word, but like a seed, it will lie and lie and grow. And it will begin good boy speak rudely or act contrary to the commandments of love. A child's soul is like a plowed field. And a good seed, if it falls into it, sprouts, and so does any weed. It is not easy to pull out this thistle when it becomes prickly. So the parents protected their child so that he would not fall from the heights of childhood purity into the abyss of sin.
But a boy is a boy. I really want to ride! And then the time of Lent came. The people in those days strictly observed fasting. Children were not even allowed on the ice mountain. They blocked it with a stick to prevent them from rolling around. And Ganya decided that now it was possible, since there was no one there. I took the sled and headed up the mountain.
But can anything good happen without the blessing of the parents and their permission? And the Lord does not allow you to engage in fun during Lent. Previously, when people did not forget God, even theaters were closed these days. The people prayed fervently, visited the sick, helped the poor, read the Holy Books and went to church.
But the boy, violating age-old customs, decided to do his own thing. He rushed down the icy cliff and ran into the very stick that covered the mountain. And not just on a stick, but on a nail sticking out of it. He tore his pants, slashed his new felt boots, and injured his leg. The blood is running, it hurts... But most of all the boy was afraid of upsetting his mother. As soon as he does something, mom kneels in front of the icon and prays with tears:
Lord, I begged You for my son, but he plays pranks and doesn’t listen. What should I do with it? And he himself may perish, and he may destroy me... Lord! Don't leave him, bring him to his senses!
Gana felt sorry for her mother. He couldn’t bear her tears, he came up and whispered:
Mom, mommy, I won't do it anymore.
Seeing that she continued to ask God, he himself, standing next to her, began to pray.
“Now mom will worry so much!” thought Ganya. “What should I do?” The boy climbed into the hayloft and began to pray to Saint Simeon, the Wonderworker of Verkhoturye. He is revered throughout Siberia. Ganya prayed with heartfelt contrition, cried, and promised to improve. He also made a vow to go on foot to worship the righteous Simeon in Verkhoturye. And this path is not short. He prayed fervently. I was tired and fell asleep unnoticed. In a dream, an old man approached him. The face is stern, but the look is friendly.
Why did you call me? - asks. Ganya, without waking up, answers:
Heal me, servant of God.
Are you going to Verkhoturye?
I'll go, I'll definitely go! Only you heal me! Please heal!
The holy elder touched his sore leg, ran his hand over the wound and disappeared. Ganya woke up from a strong itch in his leg. He looked and gasped: the wound had healed. The boy stood up and began to reverently and joyfully thank the Wonderworker.
And a few years later Ganya went with pilgrims to Verkhoturye to venerate the saint. The day before, in a dream, he saw the road along which he had to go: villages, forests, rivers. That’s how it all turned out later.
For seven days the pilgrims were at the holy place. When they left, Ganya gave new copper patches to the wanderer, very similar to the old man who appeared to him in a dream and healed him. The Stranger quietly said to Gana:
You will be a monk.
He said and disappeared into the crowd.
Years have passed. Ganya became a monk, Archimandrite Gabriel. God granted him to know the height of the Divine Spirit. Thousands of people came to him for spiritual advice, and he helped everyone to save themselves from the disastrous abyss of sin.
It’s good that his parents protected him from evil. That is why he was affectionate with people until his last breath. Now he is in the heavenly world praying for us.
Present
At the airport, passengers are allowed through a special gate before the flight. If someone wants to bring a bomb or grenade onto the plane, a warning bell will ring. The guards will grab the person who is up to no good and will not allow him to fly into the sky.
So it is in the Kingdom of Heaven, where everyone is expected pure soul, they will not let through the one who harbors evil in his heart.
So that we are not detained by heavenly guards and our soul is not prohibited from flying, let us look into it ourselves and see what desires and thoughts we live by?
One day a girl was asked:
What do you love to do most? Without hesitation she answered:
All the time she is free from classes and household chores, she tries to give people joy. Either he will make a toy for some kid or knit mittens, or he will bring groceries from the store to an old neighbor.
She herself is like a gift. You look at her, and the world becomes brighter. The guards will gladly let such people into the Heavenly Kingdom: you made others happy - now fly, rejoice yourself.
Give people joy, dear!
Control
What now, my friend, is the time: if you want to wear a cross, wear it. But it happened, it happened, when for the cross of Christ they were thrown alive into cages with animals. Tens of thousands of onlookers froze, waiting for the bloody spectacle. Twenty centuries ago, everyone chose where to go - into cages to be torn to pieces or into the stands of the circus.
But the quiet youth, going to his torment himself,
He crossed himself, hearing a menacing roar,
He pressed his arms crosswise to his chest,
An enlightened face rose to the sky.
And the king of beasts, raising a curtain of dust,
He sprawled, growling, at the children's feet.
And, like thunder, the stands shouted:
Great and glorious is the Christian God!
In the twentieth century, they made fun of believers in a different way. If they notice a child’s cross, the whole class starts hooting. And they not only mocked us, but also exiled us together with our parents to distant places, from which few people returned. Even in schools they held dictations in order to look into the soul, in whom it believes.
One mother told about her son.
My Andryusha was studying at a seven-year school at that time, he was 12 years old. The Russian language teacher announced that there would be a dictation and read the title: “The Trial of God.”
Andryusha put down his pen and pushed away his notebook. The teacher saw and asked him:
Why don't you write?
I cannot and will not write such a dictation.
But how dare you refuse! Sit down and write!
I won't.
I'll take you to the director!
Exclude me as you wish, but "The Court
over God" I will not write.
The teacher conducted the dictation and left. They call Andryusha to the director. He looks at him in surprise: an unprecedented phenomenon, a twelve-year-old boy - and so firm and unshakable. The director, apparently, still had a spark of God somewhere deep down and did not dare to make a statement about him or about me as a mother, he only said:
Well, you are brave! Go.
What could I say to my dear boy?
I hugged him and thanked him.
At one time he remembered this, and in 1933 he was sent into exile for the first time at the age of seventeen.
Nowadays, times are different: if you want to wear a cross, wear it... However, how long will these times last? Will they soon make you wrench your soul again - in whom do you believe? And again they will dictate their own.
Will we then remember the words of the Lord: “Whoever believes in Me has eternal life”?
May the Almighty strengthen you, soul,
When our time with you comes.
If only we could hear then:
Great and glorious is the Christian God. (Hieromonk Roman)
As everybody
There was a girl Masha like everyone else. Everyone calls each other nicknames, and so does she. Everyone is fighting, including her. True, she didn’t want to say bad words: they got stuck in her throat. But if that's all, then...
He settled in the village where Mashenka, a blacksmith, lived. He had a huge black beard. So the village kids called him Beard. It would seem that there is nothing offensive in this, but every person has a name - in honor of a saint, so that he can be his protector and example.
A person is inextricably linked with a name. When one of evil people wanted to destroy the most intimate, sacred thing in a person, then instead of a name they gave either a number or a nickname. Sometimes children foolishly do this too...
A blacksmith is walking down the street, and the kids shout: “Beard!”, stick out their tongues, and run away. Sometimes they even threw stones after him. Masha also threw, although she chose a smaller pebble, but she threw: if that’s all, then she did too.
The blacksmith was offended by such tricks of the children. He was a new man in the village, he had not yet gotten to know anyone closely, and here the children were throwing stones at his back and teasing him. Of course it's a shame. He will draw his head in, slouch and go, saddened, to his forge.
One day Masha stood absent-mindedly in the church. The meaning of the Divine Service flew past her, as if someone had covered her ears. And suddenly the Lord restored her hearing, the sacred words reached her attention: “Everyone who hates his neighbor is a murderer.”
The girl thought and got scared: “This is about me! What am I doing? Why am I sticking my tongue out at Beard, why am I throwing stones at him? Why don’t I love him? What if this happened to me?”
And she was also struck by the words of the Lord, spoken by the priest during the sermon: “I tell you that for every idle word that people say, they will give an answer on the day of judgment: for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
And Masha decided to start living in a new way. When he meets a blacksmith, he will smile, call him by his first name and patronymic, bow, and wish him health. And the blacksmith began to smile when he saw Mashenka. All the severity disappeared somewhere, he even said to Masha’s parents:
Your girl is wonderful!
The village children noticed how Maria was talking friendly to the blacksmith, and they also began to greet him. One day a whole crowd of people came to his forge. He received them kindly, showed them how it worked, and even gave them a try to everyone who wanted to try it. At parting, I treated everyone to gingerbread. That's how they became friends.
And since then Mashenka has ceased to be like everyone else; rather, everyone has become like Mashenka, as God taught her.
The poet Vladimir Soloukhin wrote:
Hello!
What special topics did we tell each other?
Just "hello"
We didn’t say anything more. Why a drop of sunshine?
increased in the world? Why a little bit of happiness?
increased in the world? Why is it a little more joyful?
happened in the world?
– Electricity bills have jumped again. It's been three weeks already hot water. The radiators in all the rooms have been barely warm for four years.
- Dear, this is all clear, but please explain to me, what is your fault?
- Stop, I’m not saying that I’m to blame for anything!
“Then why on earth did you, precious one, come to me?” I deal only with those people who do not deny their guilt. After all, I am not a Soviet-era house manager, I am an archpriest.
Have you ever encountered the sacrament called confession? Aforementioned - real story, which the Orthodox priest told me. This plump man, every centimeter of whose cassock literally radiates complacency, serves the cause of God in my native Dnieper region.
I can assure you, I would not write what you are reading now - no. The reason for this is an involuntary curiosity. Misunderstandings in confession are such because they never happen again.
Cases when people visit the temple, as if to the Strasbourg court, have turned into a certain pattern and resemble not jokes, but a thorough sociological study.
What is confession?
This is hard labor. One of the recognized figures in this field once said: “Looking at myself in the mirror, I see in front of me the girl whom Chekhov described in his story “I want to sleep!” Year after year, decade after decade, I try to lull a naughty and capricious baby who, tossing and turning in bed, still does not fall asleep. And he will never sleep. You’re sure of it, but you still sing him a lullaby.”
- Listen, father, our village has lost last school, for me, it’s - great sin!
– Of course, but this sin is not on you, but on the state.
– And you know something else. Since January of this year they took it and cut the subsidy. And the children's therapist, such a bastard, transferred to the regional center, and now I take my granddaughter eighty kilometers away. Electric trains because of "fucking" Korean compositions they stand idle - you have to get there on an old Ikarus, and it’s a ten-hour journey. In addition, firewood has become more expensive.
“Well, I’m very sorry, but are we going to repent of our sins or not?”
I have been observing Ukraine for quite some time, and the further I go, the more whimsical the lines of human claims look. To some extent, I was lucky to find a time when a person could directly contact the local administration and hope, if not for a quick resolution of his difficulties, then at least for sympathy.
Believe it or not, even those in power in the regional centers did not hide behind the turnstiles and the security service - whoever needs it, come in, cry, complain, threaten. Naturally, the secretary would block the way to the main one with her size four breasts, but he could have been caught at least in the corridor.
Is something bothering you?
Great, write an official statement, receive a response, no less official, notification. I don’t like the answer - yes, for God’s sake, there are a lot of ways to “sprinkle” an official message. Anywhere – to the regional administration, to Kyiv, to the Verkhovna Rada, to Mr. Poroshenko’s administration, to the “native” prosecutor’s office, to the regional prosecutor’s office, to the Prosecutor General’s Office.
Only the Lord is not satisfied with officialdom; a sincere request is enough for Him. Write anywhere, the result is always the same: your appeal will be sent down to the local administration with the obligatory instruction to sort everything out. But from now on, even in some urban settlement Dorofeevka there is a “duty guard” at the entrance, as if in a district police department, as well as a turnstile that has set teeth on edge.
And the head does not even appear on the porch: a “back door”, an alley and his own car with a pot-bellied driver are prepared for him.
By the way, about Dorofeevka. One day, an official of the Investigative Committee, Vladimir Zubkov, and his investigators came there. The doors to the reception room opened. You should have seen the people who came there with their complaints. A whole crowd had gathered in front of the duty room and the turnstile.
I became an involuntary witness to what they were saying, and I felt sorry not so much for the so-called walkers, but for Zubkov’s “sledaks”. Do you know why? There were about five to ten locals, that is, “Dorofeevskys,” there.
But five hundred people from Western, Eastern and Central Ukraine came to this outback. There was even some “packed” guy from the suburbs of Kyiv who arrived in a “trump” BMW. Some people missed out on their pensions, some had their blood business “chopped off”, and some were imprisoned for no reason.
These people gathered here for one reason - where they came from, there were no resources left, and there was no faith even in Kyiv, which was littered with papers. Here are normal and lively guys from the investigative committee. What if they take it and help out? Even if they fail, you can at least see something of people in their eyes.
In short, the young investigators got the role of clergy, forced to bear the sins of their native state. Wiping beads of sweat from their foreheads, they stoically listened to the visitors, even the frankly crazy ones, offered them to leave all the necessary papers, and said something like a prayerful parting word: “Don’t worry so much, we will definitely sort everything out.”
Of course, most of these cases “safely” returned to where they “started” from, that is, local authorities “had the good fortune” to limit themselves to another unsubscribe. Tell me, what would you do if you were these investigators? Would you feel like human rights defenders?
Destroying hopes
I have been watching this ceremony of destruction of hopes for twenty years now. And I happened to see this ritual so often that everything that happens resembles a banal plot when an electrician rapes a housewife.
After some time, such “electricians” appear in Ukraine, and their names are those who stand up for human rights, regional representatives of the president, all these people in two thousand dollar suits organize receptions for ordinary people.
And these mere mortals are raped by men and women who come with their troubles and problems, and the boys and girls whom God put to work as investigators try to at least change something, but to no avail, and they become one of those who have once again failed hopes of the population.
Now clergymen act as “electricians”. Only today they receive their assignment not from Heaven, but from the very bottom. Loaders, security guards, managers and all of them come to them appearance says: “Who, if not you?”
However, God is not the regional administration. He lowers our complaints and prayers below the local white houses - to where the current government lives, that is, you and me. “What about our sins, will we repent, or will we wait a little longer?” I am sure that this is where the supply of hot water begins, a normal therapist at the local clinic and truly Railway for trains.
God bless you!
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