Quiet joy

Smoke came from the chimney of a low log house.
“Bring some more wood, Vladislav,” the grandmother asked. Autumn is cold this year. It will pass, and the bitter cold will descend. But everything living tends to be warm. And in order to sit by the fire to warm up - you need to work hard.

Grandmother Anastasia passed a long life. Wise was her soul. Often she said:

- As the fire heats the furnace, and the furnace warms the room, so a person should give heat to a person. And even if “everything passes like smoke from white apple trees,” then the warmth of love will remain. - and asked her grandson, - But how do you, Vladushka, think where you can get this fire? How to live so that your soul does not lose its heat and warms others?

- Open the door to the traveler, who knocks in the hope of finding shelter even with unfamiliar, but welcoming hosts, - the boy answered and continued, - And if it hurts a person, try to feel his pain and console and ease his agony. After all, a doctor can be anyone who wants his soul to be filled with Compassion.

- True you think, Vladislav. Come on toss more firewood. You see, the stove is in place, and the heat spread throughout the room. Already you can continue to move away - you will not freeze. So the soul must have a fire, so as not to freeze itself, and others do no harm. It is necessary that everything in a person breathes real love: his gaze, tone of speech, and his deeds. Then you can warm not only those who knock on the door, but also those who are far from you. And this fire is a prayer.

The boy, not saying a word, listened to his grandmother, and she continued:

“And today, Vladushka, I will ask God to reward you with that small spark that serves as a saving fire — the fire of love.” As soon as you, Vladislav, you will receive this gift, thank God, so do not lose it, for it is more valuable than all earthly treasures. “Everything will pass away like smoke from white apple trees,” and he will overcome all earthly roads.

... And then, in the mysterious light of the lamp, without erasing tears, the grandmother of Anastasia, the Mother of God and the saints of God, prayed for a long time. And Vladislav heard his name and the name of those whom he had never seen.

This was their last meeting. The next morning, the parents took the son to the city. The last meeting, which confirmed that love does not know the distance. Does not know the distance when there is a prayer.

Now Vladislav himself often repeats the lines of his favorite poet Sergei Yesenin, “Everything will pass away like smoke from white apple trees”. But also to the poet's question
Where are you, where, my quiet joy,
All loving, not wanting anything?
knows the answer:
- Quiet joy - prayer, which is filled with faith, hope and love.

Elena Vecherskaya