New Year's story - 6. Miracle

23 December 2019 Travel time: with 01 November 2019 on 03 November 2019
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Five years ago, I posted story on TurPravda about a village in which I live. In the album, one of the photos shows an icon with a brief history:

So, an unexpected continuation of this story.

My very youngest brother studied to be an icon painter and restorer of icons. This icon of the Savior was written by him as either a term paper or a diploma work. She went through all the necessary procedures to become exactly an icon, and not just a picture.

And my brother gave it to me. But I am quite far from religion, and having received such a gift, I was rather puzzled. It is rather big, heavy and much more suitable for the decoration of the temple than my home.


Sending her to the attic or to the barn did not raise my hand. And I went to the nearest churches trying to give this icon as a gift. Unsuccessfully. In the fourth or fifth church, the priest told me that I would not succeed, because in any, even the poorest church, the face of the Savior is sure to be and something else must be looked for.

And I found it. Not far from my Yurlovo there are reserved places unexpected for the near Moscow region. Forests with elks and foxes, fields planted with clover, on which fat herds of cows graze and herds of horses run. The estate where Lermontov grew up, and other splendor. And the inhabitants of three villages - Podolino, Serednikovo and Ligachevo - chipped in and built a bath-bath on the Goretovka River.

And there were some small paper icons hanging inside. Having decided that this was quite a suitable place, I packed the Savior in cellophane, sat him on the square and we drove to Ligachevo.

T. since I don’t really understand the rules for placing icons, then the Savior and I went there in the evening. Almost at night. For no one to see. I just suspect that in a normal situation, the Holy Face should be carried by a bearded priest, accompanied by a procession, and not a cake smeared with mud, who arrived through a swamp on a stinking rattler.

Everything worked out. Nobody noticed us. I screwed the icon to the wall tightly, and in order not to steal it, I knocked off the bolt heads.

And for five years, I regularly came to this bathhouse to make sure that the icon was in place and wipe it.

I tried to arrive when no one was around, because my appearance did not match the prayerfulness of the place.

And this autumn I went again. As luck would have it, there were several aunts standing at the door who decided to chat. And they talked for a long time. It was getting dark and I couldn't wait any longer. I drove up, took off my helmet, said hello, got off the quad and went to the bathhouse. Limping a little. . .

And then one of the aunts turned to me with such an unexpected speech: "You have come to the right place, son. We have found the icon. It relieves pain and suffering. You put your forehead to your face and your leg will stop hurting. " p>

Ask, "What do you mean? Does she heal? ".

"No, " they said. - "Does not heal, but relieves pain. "


I was so dumbfounded that I started mumbling something in the sense that this could not be. The aunts assured me that they could, and that people from all over the region were already coming to this icon.

I was driving home in dismay. Some kind of scam worked on my part. Well, how could an icon painted by my brother and brought by me without any aspiration and reverence, get such abilities?

I thought about it all the time. I even decided to go, find these aunts and confess everything.

I called my classmate who works as a priest. He explained everything to me. Firstly, that the icon began to relieve pain, the merit of the brother and mine are minimal. This is all the work of God. Secondly, it is precisely such boobies like me who often succeed more than bearded priests and religious processions, because the boobies do not expect or plan anything like this. And he also advised me not to confess to these aunts: “Well, imagine that you got out of the swamp on your trannychalka, your face is unclean, smelly, and even drunk. And you start telling good women something about THEIR icon. Yes, they will drive you away, maybe they will beat you". . .

So, dear TurPravdinians, I congratulate you all on the New Year. I wish you health, health and wellness, but if something hurts, then you know where to go.

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Translated automatically from Russian. View original
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