Cautionary stories. Nadezhda Golubenkova - Cry from the soul. Collection of Orthodox stories

Christianity will go away. It will dry up and disappear. There is no point in arguing with this, I am right and my rightness will be proven. Now the Beatles are more popular than Christ. It is unknown what will go first: rock and roll or Christianity. (John Lennon)

On December 8, 1980, John Lennon was shot and killed by a Beatles fan.
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I have heard for quite some time that 12 people founded a new religion, but I have the pleasure of proving that it only takes one to eradicate religion forever. (Voltaire)

Now Voltaire's Parisian house houses the warehouse of the British Bible Society.
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I thought that I should do a lot against the name of Jesus of Nazareth. This is what I did in Jerusalem: I imprisoned many saints and killed them, and in all the synagogues I repeatedly tortured them and forced them to blaspheme Jesus and, in excessive rage against them, persecuted them even in foreign cities. (Pharisee Saul)

But, having met Jesus, Saul said in awe and horror: “Lord! What will you have me do?” This is how the Apostle Paul was chosen.
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At the end of time there will be only two classes of people: those who once said to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God will say, “Thy will be done.” (S.S. Lewis)

One climber dared to conquer the peak, which was considered one of the most difficult to climb. Wanting to take all the glory for himself, he decided to do it alone.

But the summit didn’t just give up. It was starting to get dark. The stars and moon were covered with clouds that night. Visibility was zero. But the climber did not want to stop.

And then on one of the dangerous ledges the climber slipped and fell down. He would definitely have died, but like any experienced steeplejack, our hero made the ascent with insurance.

Hanging over the abyss in complete darkness, the unfortunate man shouted: “God! I pray, save me!”

However, the experienced climber only grabbed the rope tighter, continuing to hang helplessly. So he did not dare to cut it.

The next day, a rescue team discovered the body of a frozen climber, clinging to a rope, hanging only HALF A METER FROM THE GROUND.

CUT YOUR INSURANCE AND TRUST IN THE LORD...

Butterfly

One man brought home a butterfly cocoon and began to observe it. And in due time the cocoon began to open a little. The newborn butterfly struggled for several hours to get out through the resulting narrow gap.

But everything was to no avail, and the butterfly stopped fighting. It seemed that she had crawled out as far as she could, and she had no strength to get out any further. Then the man decided to help the poor butterfly, he took small scissors and cut the cocoon a little. The butterfly now came out with ease. But for some reason her body was inflated, and her wings were shriveled and twisted.

The man continued to watch the butterfly, believing that its wings were about to spread out and become strong. So strong that they can hold the butterfly’s body in flight, which will take the correct shape from minute to minute. But this never happened. The butterfly was forever left with a swollen body and shriveled wings. She could only crawl; she was no longer destined to fly.

In his kindness and haste, the man who helped the butterfly did not realize one thing. The tight cocoon and the need to fight to get out through a narrow gap - all this was planned by the Lord. This is the only way the fluid from the butterfly’s body gets into the wings, and when the insect is free, it is almost ready to fly.

Very often, struggle is what benefits us in life. If the Lord allowed us to go through life without trials, then we would be “crippled.” We wouldn't be as strong as we could be. And we would never have known what it was like to fly.

Astrology

So that when you look at the sky and see the sun,
the moon and the stars and all the host of heaven,
was not enticed and did not bow down to them and did not serve them,
for the Lord your God has distributed them to all the nations under all the heavens.
Deuteronomy 4:19

Everyone knows that astrological forecasts are built depending on what constellation a particular person was born under. Let's think about this.

It seems ridiculous to say that all people born under the same constellation have similar characters.

Will the lives of two children born on the same day and in the same hospital be similar? Of course not! One of them may become rich in the future, and the other poor.

What will astrologers say about twins or premature babies?

Why does everything in astrology depend on the moment of birth, and not on the moment of conception?

What should astrologers do with the Eskimos, whose homeland is located beyond the Arctic Circle, where the Zodiac constellations are not visible in the sky for months?

What about the southern hemisphere, where people live under completely different constellations?

Why do only 12 constellations of the Zodiac influence a person’s life, and not others?

For a long time, the theory of astrology was based on the works of Ptolemy. Relatively recent astronomical discoveries The planets Uranus (1781), Neptune (1846) and Pluto (1930) led to the fact that horoscopes calculated using Ptolemy’s methods began to be considered incorrect.

The next paragraph is for the most erudite.

The imaginary large circle in the firmament along which the visible annual movement of the Sun occurs is called the ecliptic. At certain times of the year, the Sun, moving along the ecliptic, enters a certain constellation in the sky. The twelve constellations falling on the ecliptic are called the constellations of the Zodiac. For centuries it was believed that the ecliptic, like earth's axis motionless. However, astronomers have discovered the precession of the earth's axis. As a result, each constellation of the Zodiac moves back along the ecliptic by about one degree every 70 years. The result is interesting picture. A person born during the time of Ptolemy, for example, on January 1, fell under the constellation Capricorn. In our time, this person is already born literally “under the constellation Sagittarius.” If you wait another 11,000 years, then January 1 will fall in the constellation Leo! Such a shift zodiac constellations will continue until the earth's axis passes full circle in its precession after 26,000 years, and the seasons will fall under the Ptolymaic signs. Interestingly, astrologers take this into account in their forecasts?

Belief in astrology contradicts Biblical teaching that prohibits star worship (Deut. 4:15-19, 17:2-5). Astrology encourages people to rely on the “stars,” thereby leading them away from the Living God who created these stars.

In these last days The moment is approaching when believers in Christ will be caught up into heaven to dwell with God forever. Therefore, the devil tries to deceive people by offering them an alternative in the form of UFOs, so as not to think about God.

Below are several statements that debunk the extraterrestrial phenomenon hoax.

There are several dozen cases of military aircraft opening fire on UFOs, but no one has ever managed to shoot down or damage the mysterious aircraft.

No radar has ever recorded the entry and stay of a UFO in the Earth's atmosphere.

Despite hundreds of stories of UFO abductions, there is no material evidence to support the claims of people who have allegedly actually been on board extraterrestrial aliens.

When comparing descriptions of UFOs, we can conclude that each time they look completely different. It makes no sense to assume that any other space civilization is building a new one every time. appearance spaceship and only uses it once.

Even if there were thousands of advanced civilizations in the Universe, the chance for an expedition from any of these civilizations to stumble upon a small planet located on the edge of the Galaxy seems negligible. However, reports are spreading about literally thousands of UFO sightings (the closest star to us is 4.2 light years away).

The aliens live quietly in our atmosphere without any breathing apparatus.

During close contacts, the behavior of extraterrestrial beings does not in any way correspond to what would be logical to expect from highly developed intergalactic wanderers (attacks, kidnappings, murders, attempts to engage in sexual contact).

Extraterrestrial beings with UFOs very often bring anti-Biblical messages, calling for the occult, rejecting the teachings of the Bible about Jesus, God, salvation, etc.

The psychology and actions of supposedly extraterrestrial beings very well fit the description of demons or fallen angels with their fallen, old, but not technically advanced and highly rational nature. These are not biological creatures from another world in the depths of space, but the ghosts of demons living in spiritual world who are just looking for how to deceive a person.

From the book "UFO Facts" by J. Ankerberg

My father returned home from the war in 1949. In those days, all over the country you could find soldiers like my father voting on the highways. They were in a hurry to get home and see their families.

But for my father, the joy of meeting his family was overshadowed by grief. My grandmother was admitted to the hospital due to kidney disease. Although she received the necessary medical care, she required an immediate blood transfusion to save her. Otherwise, as the doctor told her family, she would not be able to live until the morning.

The transfusion turned out to be problematic because my grandmother had a rare blood type - III with negative Rh. At the end of the 40s, there were no blood banks yet, and there was no special service for its delivery. All members of our family donated blood to determine the group, but, alas, no one had the required group. There was no hope - my grandmother was dying. The father, with tears in his eyes, drove from the hospital to pick up his relatives to bring them to say goodbye to his mother.

When my father drove onto the highway, he saw a soldier voting. Heartbroken, he wanted to rush past, but something inside made him press the brakes and invite the stranger into the car. They drove in silence for some time. However, the soldier, noticing tears in my father’s eyes, asked what had happened.

With a lump in his throat, the father told the stranger about his mother’s illness. He spoke about the necessary blood transfusion and about futile attempts to find a donor with blood group III and a negative Rh factor. My father continued to say something while his fellow traveler took out a soldier’s medallion from his bosom and handed it to him to look at. The medallion stated “blood type III (-).” Within seconds, my father's car was speeding back to the hospital.

My grandmother recovered and lived another 47 years. No one in our family was ever able to find out the name of that soldier. And my father is still wondering whether it was an ordinary private or an angel in military uniform. Sometimes we are not even aware of how the Lord can sometimes work supernaturally in our lives.

One rich man once called an architect who worked for him and said: “Build a house for me in a distant country. The construction and design - I leave everything to your discretion. I want to present this house as a gift to one of my special friend".

Delighted with the order he received, the architect went to the construction site. There, a wide variety of materials and all kinds of tools had already been prepared for him.

But the architect turned out to be a cunning fellow. He thought: “I know my business well, no one will notice if I use second-rate material here, or do something of poor quality there. In the end, the building will still look normal. And only I will know.” about the minor shortcomings that have been made. This way I can do everything quickly, without much worry, and I’ll also get a profit by selling expensive building materials.”

The work was completed by the appointed time. The architect informed the rich man about this. Having examined everything, he said: “Very good! Now the time has come to give this house to my special friend. It is so dear to me that for it I did not spare any tools or materials for construction. This precious friend for me is you! And I give This house is for you!"

God gives each person a task in life, allowing him to complete it freely and creatively. And on the day of resurrection, each person will receive as a reward what he built during his life.

Two opposites live inside me: a lamb and a wolf.

The lamb is weak and helpless. He follows the Shepherd. He cannot live without the Shepherd.

The wolf is self-confident and angry. He longs to devour the lamb. The wolf brings nothing but trouble.

Which of these animals will live inside me? The one I feed.

An ordinary pastor arrived in a small town to serve in one of the local churches. A few days after his arrival, he went from home on business to the city center on a city bus. Having paid the driver and already sat down, he discovered that the driver had given him an extra 25 cents in change.

A struggle began in his thoughts. One half of him said, "Give me back those 25 cents. It's a bad thing to keep it." But the other half objected: “Yes, okay, it’s only 25 cents. Is this a reason to worry? The bus company has a huge turnover of funds, they don’t even care about such little things. Consider these 25 cents a blessing from the Lord, and move on calmly.” ".

When it was time for the pastor to leave, he handed the driver 25 cents and said, “You gave me too much.”

With a smile on his face, the driver replied, “You're the new pastor, aren't you? I was wondering if I should start going to your church. So I decided to see what you would do if I gave you extra change.”

When the pastor got off the bus, he literally grabbed the first lamppost to keep from falling and said, “Oh God, I almost sold Your Son for a quarter.”

Heroic Feat

“For hardly anyone will die for a righteous man;
perhaps for a benefactor
who decides to die.
But God proves His love for us by
that Christ died for us,
while we were still sinners" (Rom. 5:7-8)

Such an incident occurred in one military unit. The sergeant major went out onto the parade ground during drill training and threw a grenade at a platoon of recruits. All the soldiers rushed to their heels to escape death. But then it turned out that the sergeant was throwing a dummy grenade to test the reaction speed of young soldiers.

After some time, reinforcements arrived in this unit. The foreman decided to repeat the trick with a dummy grenade, asking those who already knew about it not to show it. And when he threw a dummy grenade into the crowd of soldiers, everyone again scattered. But one of the new arrivals, not knowing that the grenade was not real, rushed and lay down on it in order to shield others from the fragments with his body. He was ready to die for his fellow servicemen.

Soon this young soldier was nominated for a medal for bravery. This was a rare case when such an award was not given for success in combat.

If I were in the place of this recruit, I would probably run away with the others to hide in cover. And I wouldn’t even have the thought of dying for my comrades, not to mention people who are strangers to me, and maybe not even very good. But our Lord wished to die for the very last sinners, saving us with His body on the cross!

Chain of love

One evening he was heading home along a country road. Business in this small Midwestern town moved as slowly as his beat-up Pontiac. However, he had no intention of leaving this area. He has been unemployed since the factory closed.

It was a deserted road. There haven't been many people here. Most of his friends have left. They had to feed their families and achieve their goals. But he stayed. After all, this was the place where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew this city well.

He could blindly go down this road and tell what was on each side even with the headlights off, which he easily succeeded in doing. It was getting dark and light snow flakes were falling from the sky.

Suddenly he noticed an elderly lady sitting on the other side of the road. Even in the light of the approaching twilight, he noticed that she needed help. He stopped in front of her Mercedes and got out of the car. His Pontiac continued to rattle as he approached the woman.

Despite her smile, she looked worried. Behind last hour no one stopped to offer her help. What if he hurts her? His appearance was not trustworthy; he looked poor and tired. The lady was scared. He imagined how she might feel right now. Most likely, she was overcome with chills caused by fear. He said:

I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car? Would you be much warmer there? My name is Joey.

As it turned out, the car had a flat tire, but that was enough for the elderly woman. While looking for a jack stand, Joey injured his hands. Dirty and with injured hands, he was still able to change the tire. After finishing the repairs, the woman began a conversation. She said that she lives in another city and was passing through here. She was incredibly grateful that Joey had come to her aid. In response to her words, Joey smiled and closed the trunk.

Joey waited until the lady started driving and drove away. It had been a hard day, but now, heading home, he felt good. After driving a few miles, the woman saw a small cafe where she stopped to have a snack and warm up before driving the last leg of the way home. The place looked gloomy. Outside there were two old gas pumps. The surroundings were alien to her.

The waitress came and brought the lady a clean towel to dry her wet hair. She had a sweet, kind smile. The lady noticed that the waitress was pregnant, about eight months, but that the heavy workload did not change her attitude towards work. The elderly woman was amazed how it was possible, with so little, to be so attentive to to a stranger. Then she remembered Joey...

After the lady had eaten, the waitress went to the cash register to get change for large bill ladies, the visitor quietly walked towards the door. When the waitress returned, she was no longer there. The waitress rushed to the window in surprise and suddenly noticed the inscription left on the napkin. Tears appeared in her eyes when she read:

You don't owe me anything. I was in a similar position once, and one person helped me a lot. Now it's my turn to help you. If you want to repay me, do this: don’t let the chain of love break.

The waitress still needed to wash the tables and fill the sugar bowls, but she put it off until the next day. That evening, when she finally got home and went to bed, she thought about the money and what the woman had written. How did this woman know how much their young family needed money? With the baby due in a month, it was going to be even harder. She knew how worried her husband was. He slept next to him, she kissed him tenderly and whispered tenderly:

Everything will be okay, I love you, Joey.

People with roses

John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his army uniform and began to peer intently into the crowd of people passing through the central station square. He was waiting for a girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he had never seen, he was waiting for a girl with a rose.

It all started thirteen months ago in a Florida library. He was very interested in one book, but not so much by what was written in it, but more by the notes made in the margins. The dull handwriting betrayed a deep-thinking soul and a penetrating mind.

Having made every effort, he found the address of the former owner of the book. Miss Holis Meinel lived in New York. He wrote to her about himself and invited her to correspond.

The next day he was called to the front. The Second has begun World War. During next year they got to know each other well through letters. Each letter was a seed falling into the heart, as if onto fertile soil. The novel was promising.

He asked for her photo, but she refused. She believed that if his intentions were serious, then how she looked didn't really matter.

When the day came for him to return to Europe, they made their first meeting at seven o'clock. At Grand Central Station in New York.

“You will recognize me,” she wrote, “there will be a red rose pinned on my jacket.”

At exactly seven o'clock he was at the station and was waiting for the girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he had never seen.

This is what he himself writes about what happened next.

“A young girl was walking towards me - I have never seen anyone more beautiful: a slender, graceful figure, long and blond hair hanging in curls on her shoulders, large Blue eyes... In her pale green jacket, she resembled spring that had just returned. I was so amazed to see her that I walked towards her, completely forgetting to see if she had a rose. When there were a couple of steps left between us, a strange grin appeared on her face.

“You are stopping me from passing,” I heard.

And then right behind her I saw Miss Holis Meinal. A bright red rose glowed on her jacket. Meanwhile, that girl in the green jacket moved further and further away.

I looked at the woman who stood in front of me. A woman who was already well over forty. She was not just full, but very full. An old, faded hat hid thin gray hair. Bitter disappointment filled my heart. It seemed that I was torn in two, so strong was my desire to turn and follow that girl in the green jacket, and at the same time, so deep was my affection and gratitude to this woman, whose letters gave me strength and support during the most difficult time of my life.

She stood there. Her pale full face she looked kind and sincere, her gray eyes shone with a warm light.

I didn't hesitate. In my hands I clutched a small blue book, by which she should have recognized me.

"I'm Lieutenant John Blancherd, and you must be Miss Maynel? I'm so glad we could finally meet. May I invite you to dinner?"

A smile appeared on the woman's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about, son," she replied, "but that young girl in the green jacket who just left asked me to wear this rose. She said if you come and ask me to dinner, I'll I must tell you that she is waiting for you at a nearby restaurant. She said that this was a kind of test."

John and Holis got married, but the story doesn't end there. Because to some extent this is the story of each of us. We have all met such people in our lives, people with roses. Unattractive and forgotten, unaccepted and rejected. Those whom you don’t want to approach at all, whom you want to get around as quickly as possible. They have no place in our hearts, they are somewhere far away in the outskirts of our soul.

Holis gave John a test. A test to measure the depth of his character. If he turned away from the unattractive, he would lose the love of his life. But this is exactly what we often do - we reject and turn away, thereby refusing the blessings of God hidden in people's hearts.

Stop. Think about those people you don't care about. Leave your warm and comfortable apartment, go to the city center and give a sandwich to a beggar. Go to a nursing home, sit next to an old woman and help her carry a spoon to her mouth while eating. Go to the hospital and ask the nurse to take you to someone you haven't seen for a long time. Look into the unattractive and forgotten. Let this be your test. Remember that the outcasts of the world wear roses.

What I was afraid of happened

“But as it was in the days of Noah, so will it be at the coming of the Son of Man” (Matthew 24:37).

(this happened a long time ago. Once upon a time there lived one man, and his name was either Simeon or Simon. Because of the length of time, it is difficult to establish for sure now. We will call him Semyon.

This man was good, but everyone considered him a little strange. While everyone was interested in what was under their feet, Semyon was more interested in what was above his head. Often he went into the forest to be alone, to dream, to look at the sky, to think about the meaning of life. Maybe that's why Semyon was left without work. His wife Klava grumbled at him, food supplies were running out, it was unknown what to do next.

And then one morning Semyon went into the forest and, filled with thoughts, went as far as he had never gone before. Suddenly his stream of thoughts was interrupted by a knock. What is this? Drawn by curiosity, Semyon headed in the direction where the sounds were coming from. Who could have gotten that far? After a short search, Semyon came out into a large clearing and froze in surprise: in the middle of the clearing stood a strange structure, reminiscent of a huge wooden house without a foundation with a huge door and small windows under the roof itself. Several people worked at the construction site. One of them, noticing Semyon, left his work and went to meet him. Semyon was scared, but when he saw the face of the approaching man, he calmed down. It was a gray-haired old man with radiant eyes. His gaze simultaneously pierced you through and inspired peace and tranquility.

Good to see you, young man. Why did you complain? - asked the old man.

My name is Semyon, I was walking in the forest and came across you. Who are you and what are you doing here?

My name is Noah. Come with me, I'll tell you everything.

Noah led Semyon to his building, sat him down on a bench under a canopy and began to talk. The more Noah spoke, the more interesting it was to listen to him. Semyon was surprised to find that he was receiving answers to questions that constantly arose in his mind. For example, why does this world look so uncomfortable and people seem so unkind? He listened to every word of the elder. True, now it no longer seemed to him as ancient as at first glance.

When Noah finished speaking, there was silence.

“You say interesting things, Noah,” Semyon finally said, barely hiding his excitement. - God, rain, flood, ark... Will no one be saved?

Stay with us, if you help us build, we will be saved together.

Can i?! - Semyon’s heart almost jumped out of his chest with joy.

Of course, if you really want to be saved.

Yes I want it very much! I don't like the world I live in. Just... Can I run home first and warn my people? Maybe they'll want to join in too!

Noah looked intently and sadly at Semyon.

Go, of course... But, I’m afraid you won’t come back here again.

No, I will definitely come! Together we will build the ark!

Semyon, inspired by the prospect of a new life, so real, rushed home, thinking as he went how best to tell Klava what happened to him. But the closer he got to home, the less enthusiasm and courage he had. A treacherous thought pierced my heart: “If I tell everything as it happened, they won’t believe me, they’ll call me crazy again. We need to present a more cunning case.”

Entering the house, Semyon shouted from the threshold:

Klava, I found a job!

Finally! I thought this would never happen. So what kind of work?

A carpenter. At Noah's.

Amazing. How much will he pay you?

To pay? Well... we haven't talked about that yet.

Why, you didn’t ask about the most important thing? Oh, Semyon, I’m no longer surprised by anything.

You see, this is an unusual job...

And Semyon frankly told everything that he saw and heard from Noah. Practical Klava listened carefully to her husband and shook her head doubtfully:

And you think this is all true? Suppose it was indeed God who commanded Noah to build the ark. And all the same, the worker deserves a reward.

He should pay you for your work. This is what I think: go to our priest and consult with him. Maybe he knows something about this Noah.

Semyon did not like his wife’s advice, but he decided to please her and went to look for a priest. He rarely entered the temple, because there he experienced a mixed feeling of admiration for the beauty of its decoration and bewilderment at the absurdity of what usually happened here. And now a certain solemn event was taking place in the temple, the cook Semyon did not understand the meaning. He waited until the end and, when the people had dispersed, he turned to the priest in a magnificent robe. The priest listened to him carefully and spoke in a velvety bass:

It is very good, my son, that you are so interested in the will of God, for only its fulfillment contributes to our good. But be careful, for Satan is cunning and walks around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. He takes the form of an angel of light and is therefore easily mistaken for a servant of God. Look,” and he raised his hand to the magnificently painted dome, “the Lord God is here with us.”

I don’t think you have to wander through forests and swamps to find Him. Better come here. Here in God's house you will gain true knowledge. And the truth is that God is love. How could you believe that the One who created such beautiful world, will destroy it with a flood? This is a heresy, son, a dangerous heresy. And you better not tell anyone about this... what's his name? Yes... Noah... We care about unity here, but this... uh... Noah brings anxiety and division into society. Is it God's will for there to be strife among His children? Well, that's the same. Go. And come to the service next week. God bless you.

Semyon got upset and walked away, thinking heavy thoughts. What if the priest is right? And his dreams of a new life are stupidity, and Noah is a dangerous eccentric? Suddenly he was brought out of his thoughts by a heavy blow on the shoulder.

Hello old man! Why are you walking, hanging your head, not noticing your friends? How are you?

Semyon looked up and saw Arkashka, an old friend, we studied together at school.

What's wrong with you? You don't look like yourself. What happened? Semyon looked at Arkashka - so prosperous, respectable, moving in the highest spheres. Educated. Seems to be an expert in public relations. Maybe consult him? And he told about Noah. He also mentioned the conversation with his wife and the priest.

It’s interesting,” thoughtful Arkashka thought, “this Noah of yours is a strange person.” Well, just think about it, why build a ship in a deep forest, where there is no sea or small river?! If he is as kind as you say, it would be better if he built a hospital or a soup kitchen - there are so many people in need today! Who needs his ark? Besides, brother, remember what we were taught at school: water cannot fall from the sky, it is contrary to the laws of nature. So no flood is simply impossible. And if anything happens, scientists would warn us. In general, throw nonsense out of your head and live like everyone else normal people. Although it is difficult for you, I know you, a dreamer. But try your best, you have a family! Well, bye, friend, I have to go. I was glad to meet you. Hello wife.

Semyon was completely saddened and headed home, although the last thing he wanted was to see his wife now. Opening the door, I heard voices. Guests! Their beloved grandfather visited them - what a surprise!

“Hello, Semyon,” grandfather hugged him. - So, I decided to see how you live here. Klava told me about your adventures. Could this really be Noah? I met him... Let me remember... About fifty or sixty years ago he walked the streets of our city and preached. He called on everyone to repent, otherwise, they say, God will send rain from the sky, and it will be destroyed by water. Well, have you ever seen rain? Noah, let me tell you, is a fanatic. Or a sick person. Which, however, is the same thing. I don’t think you need to communicate with him, much less work for him. I'm sure you can find yourself Good work here in the city.

Grandfather’s words destroyed the remnants of Semyon’s faith. And he resigned himself to the idea that he should not return to Noah.

Days passed, weeks flew by. Semyon began to forget about the amazing meeting in the forest. He found a job and tried to “live like other people.” And only sometimes in his dreams did he see Noah’s radiant eyes, the all-knowing and kind gaze. When he woke up, he forbade himself to think about this madman. And the reproachful dream visited him less and less often.

One day, when Semyon came home from work, his wife greeted him from the doorway with a question:

Have you heard what people are talking about?

No, what happened?

Everyone is talking about Noah and his ark!

Why did they remember him? Aren't you tired of gossiping about a crazy fanatic with delusional ideas? Is that what they say?

No, listen, people saw that the forest animals, and the field, and the birds were gathering together and going, flying there, to him, to his clearing!

Animals? To the clearing to Noah? Is it really true...

Semyon, let's ask our neighbor what he thinks about all this? He is a learned man.

Yes, the event, frankly speaking, is extraordinary,” the learned neighbor scratched his head. - This doesn’t happen often, although it is theoretically possible. When the moon enters the fourth phase, a strong magnetic field is created, enhanced by the special arrangement of the constellations, and this has a specific effect on the brains of animals, so that they become inclined to cluster together and migrate. Well, the fact that they moved towards the clearing of the ark was most likely a mere coincidence. Yes, the phenomenon has been little studied, but I think over time we will figure it out. So sleep well, neighbors.

But Semyon could not sleep that night. As soon as it was dawn, he got up and went into the forest to Noah. I made my way through the thicket for a long time and finally came to the place - here it is, the ark! But what is it? Silence, not a soul around - no people, no animals, no birds are visible... The construction seems to be completed, and the huge door leading to the ark is tightly closed.

Semyon became scared. What would all this mean? Maybe Noah came to his senses, abandoned his ridiculous idea and went to the city? Semyon turned back to look for Noah and his family. His heart was heavy. What if he doesn't find them in the city? What if they had already locked themselves in the ark in anticipation of the flood? Semyon looked at the sky - it was clear, the sun was shining brightly. Will water really come from there? It's all strange!

The next morning the sun was shining again. Forecasters did not promise any changes in the weather. And the next day the weather was also good. Seven days passed, clear and fine. Semyon gradually calmed down and stopped thinking about Noah and his ark, when suddenly a dark spot appeared in the sky. People ran out into the street to gawk at the unusual atmospheric phenomenon. The wind grew stronger, and soon the sky became cloudy. The first drops began to fall from the sky. People raised their heads, trying to understand what was happening, pushing and fussing. Suddenly someone remembered Noah. People shouted in despair:

It's a flood!

A wave flashed through the crowd: “Noah, the ark...”

The panic began. Many rushed into the forest. Among them was Semyon.

It was difficult to escape - the hurricane wind knocked us off our feet. When people reached the clearing, the raindrops turned into downpour. It became difficult to breathe. Entire lakes had already overflowed in the lowlands, and the water continued to rise; here and there, fountains of water with mud and stones began to gush out from under the ground. The ark stood like an island in the middle of the waves, and people tried to climb onto it, but there was nothing to grab onto, and they fell into the water. “Noah, take us to your place!” - they called for help. But the door of the ark was tightly slammed shut, no one was in a hurry to save them. Semyon, fleeing the water, climbed a tall tree at the edge of the clearing. He saw how the ark came to life, the water tore it off the ground and carried it away. Swinging majestically on the raging waves, Noah's giant ship was moving away, caught by the wind. Water and wind tore the tree to which Semyon was clinging from the ground. The last thing Semyon managed to think was: “What I was most afraid of happened to me.”

Cry from the heart

Collection Orthodox stories

Nadezhda Golubenkova

© Nadezhda Golubenkova, 2017


ISBN 978-5-4474-4914-8

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero

Preface

Children's summer camp. A pocket edition of the “Gospel” from the publishing house “Gideon”, distributed to everyone. It all started with him, with this little blue, inconspicuous book. Those were the bright days of a carefree, in the opinion of all adults, childhood. Or, more correctly, adolescence, because I was then eleven or twelve years old. And yet I would not say that my childhood was carefree. And in general, did it exist? For as long as I can remember, I studied, studied, studied. And in those days of my stay at the Olympus children's health camp, I spent a lot of time not playing with the guys, but reading. And I read this particular Book, which fell into my hands completely by accident, but, as I understand now, very timely.

WITH Christian love Dedicated to all readers.

Two Nicholas

In one completely ordinary village family there were two sons, and both were called Nikolai. But not because their parents lacked imagination. But it just so happened that the eldest was born on December 19 - on the winter day of memory of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker - and the youngest - on May 22, exactly on summer holiday saint That’s what they were called in the family: Nikola the summer and Nikola the winter.

To the mother's sadness, there was no peace between the brothers. Each of them, on occasion, tried to prove that Nikolai Ugodnik, especially revered by the entire Russian people, was their only saint. Over time, the parents gave up on the boys' constant quarrels.

And so, when the youngest was 11 years old and the eldest was 13, the father got a new job and the family moved to the city. Very close to them new apartment, two streets away, was the huge and majestic Church of All Saints. When their mother brought them here for the first time, the brothers were amazed at the gilded decoration and high vaults of the temple: their village church was much more modest. And how many people could fit here!

However, there were few parishioners at the temple. Soon the boys and their mother knew everyone by sight, and even became friends with some of them.

May has arrived. Smartly dressed in honor of the name day and birthday of the younger Nicholas, the brothers came to the Divine Liturgy. And what do they see? The temple is full of people! Now everyone who wanted took communion, the priest brought out a cross for kissing. Looking around his parishioners with a radiant gaze, Father Mikhail congratulated all the birthday people and ordered them to come up first. Each Nicholas was given icons of the saint and short prayers by his mothers. Our summer Nikola also went for a gift.

- Why aren’t you going? – the mother of her eldest son pushed.

“Look how many people there are,” the amazed teenager nodded at the long line, at the end of which his brother had lined up. – So there won’t be enough icons for everyone. I'll be better suited on my birthday. Do you think the priest will also give icons then?

“I have no doubt,” the woman smiled, gently patting his hair.

For more than a month, Nikola the Winter teased his younger brother, reminding him how many Nikolaevs came on his birthday.

“I suppose the saint didn’t even notice you in such a crowd,” he said in the heat of the moment, nearly bringing his brother to tears.

The seventh-grader himself was sure that there would be few people on his holiday. Perhaps even he alone will approach the priest for the icon.

His name day came unnoticed. The real December frosts were crackling outside the window. Father, as usual, went to work, and the boys and mother hurried to work. The eldest son froze at the entrance when he saw how many people were not afraid of the cold and came. Despite the fact that today was not Sunday, and indeed an ordinary working day, it was impossible to breathe in the temple: it was difficult to bow to the waist.

The service ended, but the brothers and their mother remained standing behind the crowd approaching the cross.

- Oh, why don’t you go get your icon? – a good-natured deacon, Father Andrei, approached them.

The older boy looked in confusion at the endless line, at the mothers who brought additional icons from the candle stand, and shook his head:

– And so it’s not enough, but I have an icon at home - my godparents gave it to me.

“Go, go, the priest has a very special gift for you,” the deacon winked at the birthday boy.

Timid and regretting that he had once teased his brother, Nikola the Winter pushed through the crowd to the thinning line of men. So he approached the priest and venerated the cross.

– Happy holiday, Nikolai! And I've already lost you.

And, making a sign to one of the mothers, Father Mikhail personally handed him a small icon. Looking at it, the boy looked up at the priest in confusion: on the icon was not his patron, but two saints unknown to the teenager.

- Didn’t you really recognize it? – the father was sincerely surprised. – These are the holy Equal-to-the-Apostles brothers Cyril and Methodius.

Nikolai blushed a little, but nodded.

“I wish you and your brother the same spiritual unity that existed between the saints,” Father Mikhail continued. “You are the eldest, so from now on never offend your younger brother, protect him, take care of him and, I’m sure, he will repay you with even more love.”

From then on, there were no more quarrels between the brothers.

The boy who wished to see other people's sins

In one big city There lived a family: a mother and her son Sashka. The boy's father abandoned them, and Sasha didn't even remember him. Mom always said that dad was good, but was afraid of responsibility when she told him about her pregnancy. Sasha was sure that he would never do this. But what can a boy who is only eight years old wish for the future?

Not far from their house there was a beautiful small church. It did not have a bell tower, but from the windows of Sasha’s bedroom one could see its domes. Almost every Sunday he and his mother went to this church: they lit candles for dad, confessed and received communion. There were few regular parishioners, and Sasha knew them all not only by sight, but also by name.

One day, when he and his mother were leaving the church, Baba Nyura, an old woman from the neighboring yard, came alongside them. And she told them this story:

“Annushka, you should pray at the new icon of the Savior that our priest recently brought.” Do you know what miracle happened just now? Svetlana, who couldn’t bear it, is expecting a baby. She says she prayed at the new icon, and a miracle happened. So you pray: your child is probably in trouble without a folder.

- Thank you, Baba Nyura, but we’ll do it ourselves somehow. Yes, the two of us are already used to it.

- Pray, pray. The icon is miraculous, I’m telling you for sure.

Mom just shook her head, and Sasha’s words from the old woman sunk into her soul. And so the next Sunday after the service, he approached the priest and stopped awkwardly, not knowing where to start. The priest noticed the boy and smiled warmly:

– What are you thinking about, Sasha? Or are you waiting for your mother?

The boy involuntarily looked around, glancing at his mother, who was buying candles in the church shop. Today it was more people, than usual, and they did not have time to light the candles before the service.

“I wanted to ask,” the boy plucked up courage and said quietly.

– I’m listening to you carefully.

– Is it true that Grandma Nyura told her mother that the new icon could work miracles?

“You can check it yourself,” the priest answered, thinking a little. - Pray. Ask the Savior for what you want more than anything else. And if your words are from the heart, He will give you what you ask.

Sasha thanked the priest for his answer and went up to the icon of the Savior. What does he want more than anything in the world? A new car? A soccer ball, like Romka’s from the next door? Or maybe just ask for a computer?

- I’m a sinner, father...

Sasha looked up from his thoughts and looked at the woman in a white headscarf, whom he had not seen in the temple before. “What does it look like, this sin?” - flashed through my head. No, he knew that fighting, disobeying his mother, and doing his homework carelessly was bad, sinful. He was told that sin is a disease, like invisible wounds on the soul. But he never had the imagination to imagine it.

- I want to see sins. “I want to see sins,” he whispered, looking at the Savior. Now he wanted this more than anything in the world.

But, alas, when the boy turned around, he did not see anything unusual in the woman talking with the priest. “Maybe it’s here, in the church, after confession, that no one has any sins left. But now we’ll go outside...” But there was nothing strange about the passers-by either. “Baba Nyura is wrong, and there was no miracle,” Sasha thought annoyed.

As time went. Sasha missed services more and more often: either he would go somewhere with friends in the morning, or he would sleep off after a nightclub, or he simply didn’t want to. Mom walked alone, lit candles for both him and his father, praying that her son would come to his senses and that his “adolescent age” would end as soon as possible.

Page 1 of 5

ABOUT FAITH

Epiphany

At one Moscow school, a boy stopped going to classes. He doesn't go 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 answered sadly:

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 am a 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 over 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 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 invisible world 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.

Was prom. 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. He 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 on the 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 made 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 the 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 the orphanage, the priest with a bright soul baptized 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 remains is to cross the tram tracks - and here it is, our 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, blue water and a sea of ​​pleasure awaited them. 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 life 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 destructive 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, the Red Star, the Patriotic War of the first and second degree, 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 thundered over the children's heads, 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 his 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 indulge 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 can perish, and he can 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 contrition of heart, 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 heights 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!

Test

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 either 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 things did we say to 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. There has been no hot water for three weeks now. 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 he told me Orthodox priest. 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, this is a 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 came there investigative committee Vladimir Zubkov and the investigators under his charge. 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 from 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 certainly 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 come to them and their entire 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, a normal therapist in the local clinic, and a truly railway for electric trains begins.

God bless you!

2016, . All rights reserved.

LIFE STORY

Every morning, waking up and looking out the window, I saw the same picture: some woman was walking a large German shepherd in our yard. And every time I thought to myself with mockery: she has nothing else to do - she’s looking after the dog! But I must say that this story happened in the early 90s, when there was hard times, even bread was bought with coupons, and even to get it, you had to queue at night. So I thought - if only I could feed myself, where else would I feed a dog...

My daughters had several different dolls, some of them resembled babies in appearance - in onesies, with pacifiers, with bottles, others resembled adults. Among them were two Barbie dolls. Such beautiful, bright dolls, in those years they were just beginning to “come into fashion” and we, believers, did not yet understand the danger of such toys. But if parents do not understand, then God can reveal to the children themselves about their sinfulness.

One sister told about one small miracle, which happened a long time ago, in the early 90s, when her daughters were small and did not yet go to school: -I recently became a believer, my husband left us because of this, and we lived very poorly. The neighborhood kids had beautiful dolls, the girls saw it, but with our budget, a doll was out of the question.

And my eldest daughter pestered me: “I want a doll, I want a doll,” day and night I only dreamed about this. I tried to persuade her in different ways, but nothing helped, and it didn’t even dawn on me that I could ask God about this. Finally, when I saw that my daughters were already dreaming about dolls, she told them: “Let’s pray together, ask Jesus, and He knows what He will give us, because we don’t have money for dolls.”

After Sunday service, I came home and sat at the table in my room. I plunged into thought about my work. In the Church there is peaceful, pleasant fellowship, there is unanimity among the brothers, and they work zealously. Sinners repent, and everyone is joyful.
Suddenly the door opens and a pleasant-looking man enters. In his hands are all sorts of pharmaceutical instruments - flasks, test tubes, an alcohol burner, scales. He put it all on the table and asked: “Are you a minister of the church and do you have zeal?” From my jacket pocket I took out “zeal” in the form of a chocolate bar and handed it to him. He weighed it on the scales and wrote down on a piece of paper: “ANALYSIS OF THE DISCENCE OF A MINISTER Churches to receive rewards from God."
Total weight - 100 pounds.
I jumped for joy, but he looked at me so much that I sat up and realized that the research was not over yet. Then a man broke my zeal and put it in a flask, placed it over the fire and everything melted into liquid. I let it cool and everything froze in layers. He began to beat one layer at a time, weigh it and write down:

Oh, the depth of wealth and wisdom and knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His destinies and His ways unsearchable, For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who was His advisor.
Or who gave Him in advance that He should repay?
For everything is from Him, by Him and to Him. To him be glory forever and ever, Amen.
Rom 11:33-36

This is the testimony of Sister Lena, 46 years old, deaconess of our church Tabernacle of the Mountains, Ishmael. When we were driving back from spiritual work, she told an unusual story from her life, and I thought - how incomprehensible are His destinies and unsearchable are His ways.

When the war began, we Germans from the Volga region were evicted from our homes and taken to the north. Many died on the road, many could not stand the harsh living conditions and hunger. I had a believing grandmother who talked about God, that God loves us very much and will never leave us.

We have been starving for over a week. There was nothing to eat, nothing at all - not a piece of bread, not a single potato. Mom cried, dad sat silently.

And then my grandmother said: “Let's pray.” She forced us all to our knees. We prayed and sang psalms. Then we got up from our knees, sat down, and there was dead silence in our house.