One wonderful occasion in a forgotten mountain village on Easter
A few years ago, the inhabitants of one of the mountain villages of Aegina were left without a priest, - my sister paused a long pause and took a deep breath, as if she was going to take an invisible height. - Time passed, and all did not appoint a new priest. Finally Lent came, and the peasants became agitated. In Greece, in the first and last week of the Holy Four-Piece, work and study cease - Hellas is praying. Everywhere flags are lowered - like mourning about the crucified Christ, people stand daily on long Lenten services, go on religious processions throughout the parish of paraffin, keep a strict fast without oil, and many do not like it. To remain at this time without a priest for the arrival is an unthinkable thing.
After consulting, the peasants decided to write a pleading letter to the ruling bishop of the diocese. “Holy Lord,” the inhabitants of the village begged, “send us a priest at least for the time of Holy Week and Easter. So that we can adequately prepare, repent, pray and joyfully with the whole world to meet the Bright Resurrection of Christ. Do not leave us orphans, Holy Master, do not forget about our grief. Send us a priest whom Your Eminence will bless. ”
The bishop read the letter and at the next diocesan meeting, in a series of other questions, read out the request of the laity of the Aegina village: “Who can go, fathers, to this village?” But each of those present explained his employment and gave the reason why he could not go. Then the meeting turned to other issues, and the letter of the Highlanders was covered with a pile of other papers. And then he was simply forgotten because of the many troubles and preparations for the approaching Easter.
Finally came the Great Day of the Resurrection of Christ, which in Greece is extremely festively and solemnly greeted by the whole world. Orthodoxy is the official religion of Hellas, and here it is also a national holiday, which is celebrated with the participation of not only the church, but also the government hierarchy. The first holiday week passed, the diocesan employees went to workplaces, and soon the bishop discovered a new letter on his desk from a mountain village. “Holy Lord! - wrote the peasants. - There are no words to express all our gratitude and heartfelt appreciation for your pastoral participation and assistance to our parish. Let us forever thank God and you, Holy Lord, for the reverent priest whom you sent us to celebrate Easter. We have never had to pray with such a gracious and humble servant of God ... ”
The bishop began the nearest diocesan meeting with the question: “Which of the priests went to the village from which the letter was read the last time?” Everyone was silent, no one responded. Great bewilderment and ardent curiosity seized the saint. A few days later, the stony mountain roads of the island of Aegina were swirling with dust - a bishop's motorcade rushed into the mysterious village. For the first time in his life, Vladyka came to this forgotten village with a magnificent retinue. With Easter cakes, kulurakiy, Krashenkas and flowers, they were met by residents in full strength from old to small and were solemnly taken to a small ancient temple.
Vladyka took the magazine, hastily flipped through the pages and read: “Nectarius, Metropolitan Pentapolsky”
All Greek priests are considered civil servants, and everyone is obliged to leave an entry in a special church journal, even if he served in the church once. The archbishop venerated the venerated temple icon and immediately went to the altar. At the open Royal Doors, everyone saw how he took a magazine and went to a tall, narrow window. Hurriedly scrolling through the pages, he ran his finger along the last line. "Nectarios, Metropolitan Pentapol" - was printed there in beautiful ink. Vladyka dropped the magazine and fell to his knees, where he stood.
The news of the great miracle struck the heavenly thunder of all who stood in the temple. The squall of overwhelming feelings broke the long ringing silence. People fell to their knees, raised their hands in grief, hugged, wept, loudly thanked God and St. Nectarius. Only now each of those present was beginning to understand what had happened. The Lord Almighty, heard the tearful sighing of the heart of His faithful sheep, left in sorrow in a remote little village near the top of the mountain and sent a great shepherd from the Kingdom of Heaven to them. The master of the earth, through weakness, forgot about the entrusted small herd, but the Lord of Heaven and Earth did not forget about it. Now they knew what the moment of Truth is. For a whole week, St. Nectarius, who passed away in 1920, was flesh with simple shepherds and their families, served in the temple, led them with processions, led at night solemn mourning epitaph processions with the Holy Sepulcher, sang hymns and prayers with them, comforted, instructed . Never have they heard such words about God from anyone. It seemed that this old gerond with a soft voice knew Him personally.
Only then did the people understand why all this time the unearthly joy filled their hearts. Why the tears of repentance and emotion flowed like a river, and no one held them back and did not hesitate. Why they did not want to eat, did not want to sleep, and only - to pray with this wondrous good father. The icon of St. Nectarios was in their temple in a place of honor, but none of them recognized him.
