From all work there is profit, but from idle talk there is only damage. Book of Proverbs of Solomon (14:23) Breath of the Motherland. Ekaterinburg. Message From all work there is profit, but from idle talk there is only damage. appeared first on Russia today. Source link
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One boy wanted to go sledding down the hill. • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaAnd 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 a good boy will begin to speak rudely or act not according 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 is naughty and doesn’t listen.” What should I do with it? And he himself may perish, and he may destroy me... Lord! Don't leave him, bring him to his senses! Gana felt sorry for her mother. He couldn’t bear her tears, he came up and whispered: - Mom, mommy, I won’t do it anymore. Seeing that she continued to ask God, he himself, standing next to her, began to pray. “Now mom will be so worried! - thought Ganya. - What to 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 height of the Divine Spirit. Thousands of people came to him for spiritual advice, and he helped everyone to save themselves from the disastrous abyss of sin. It’s good that his parents protected him from evil. That is why he was affectionate with people until his last breath. Now he is in the heavenly world praying for us Original source Source link
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We all condemned her… Elena Kucherenko • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaMila stood in the temple and cried. It's been about fifteen minutes. It was amazing for me. “What is this FIFA doing here?” – I thought. I definitely didn’t expect to meet anyone here, but she. We didn’t know Mila, but I saw her often. We live in the same house and walk in the same park. I am with my four children, and she is with her three dogs. We all always condemned her. We are me, other mothers with their offspring, grannies on benches, neighbors and, I suspect, even passers-by. Mila was very pretty, always fashionably dressed and seemed to be frivolous and self-confident. “Look, I changed the guy again,” Baba Nina grumbled after her, sitting on a bench at the entrance. - It’s already the third. “She can afford it, there’s a ton of money,” chimed in her friend Baba Shura, looking with envy as Mila and another boyfriend got into her expensive foreign car. Baba Shura’s son, 45-year-old Vadik, has not yet earned even enough money to buy a used Zhigul. “It would be better if she gave birth to children, the clock is ticking,” their eternal opponent, grandfather Tolya, supported the grandmothers. But they were unanimous on the issue of condemning Mila. Later, the whole shop gloatingly discussed that this Milkin swindler had run away. And she made a thoughtful conclusion: “Because she’s a slut! And anyway, her house probably stinks of dog!” But we, mothers and children, disliked Mila the most. While we were running with all our might after our children through the slides, swings, bushes, garbage dumps and simply wherever the child’s eyes were looking (and they could look anywhere), she was imposingly strolling with her “mutts” and didn’t blow her whistle. And she even looked in our direction with a kind of grin. They say they gave birth, and now you don’t know any peace. Whether it's me or not. I live for my own pleasure. And you are frantically calculating whether Mashenka has enough money for a jacket and boots, or whether the boots can wait. – It’s immediately obvious that he’s childfree. They’re all like that,” said my friend Natasha, mother of three boys. “The rich have their own quirks - dogs, cats, hamsters,” Lyudka, pregnant with twins, nodded, trying to get her eldest daughter from the tree. - Yes, she’s simply selfish, she doesn’t want to bother, but only to travel abroad. “I haven’t seen the sea for seven years now,” sighed five-child Marina. “Yes, yes, yes,” I immediately agreed with everyone, including those grandmothers in the yard. And she rushed to pick up Tonya, who had broken her knee and was screaming throughout the park, from the ground. “I set up a kennel here, it would be better if I gave birth to a child,” a grandmother and her grandson suddenly said loudly one day. - None of your business! – Mila turned around sharply. I wanted to say something else, but I restrained myself and moved on with my nasty dogs. “Boorish,” that granny shouted after her. ...I looked at the crying Mila for a few more seconds and left the temple. “Wait,” I suddenly heard. - Wait. Mila followed me across the churchyard. – Are you the one who always walks in the park with four girls? - I... And you with three dogs. - Yes. Ah...Can I talk to you?..You know, I always look at you and your daughters, at other mothers, and just admire,” she said...And blushed. - You?!? – I was surprised. And she almost added: “You’re childfree, selfish and a fifa!” And I remembered her “snide” glances in our direction... That's how we met. They sat down on a bench. Mila spoke... spoke. And she cried. It was clear that she just really needed to share with someone... ...What did Baba Nina mumble then? “Changed the guy again, slut.” ...Mila grew up in a good, friendly family. And for as long as I could remember, I wanted many children. Married for great love. But after two missed pregnancies and the doctors’ verdict of “infertility,” her beloved husband quickly disappeared. For the same reason, the second one disappeared. But before that, Mila had been undergoing treatment for a long time. And in the end, she almost died from an ectopic pregnancy. Then there was the third “hahal”. And again ectopic. But this one ran away when he just heard about a possible child. He liked Mila’s car, the fact that she earned a lot, and the burden of children was not part of his plans. “And I was ready to give everything so that I could have a baby!” “I thought you loved dogs,” I said somehow stupidly. “Yes, I love dogs,” Mila smiled. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like children.” To make it less lonely, Mila got herself a Tepa. And then she was asked to keep Mike with her while the owners made renovations. They left it that way. And Mila picked up Fenya as a puppy on the street in winter. It was a pity. “I set up a kennel, it would be better if I gave birth to a child,” I remembered that grandmother and her grandson. “The clock is ticking...” then grandfather Tolya hissed after Mila. The clock was ticking... Mila was already forty-one years old. Although she looked at most thirty. “I didn’t understand how...The child is suffering, he needs a family, but nothing can be done.” She decided to take the child from the orphanage. Small, big – it doesn’t matter. She really liked six-year-old Kolya. More precisely, at first he liked her. He approached Mila and asked: “Will you be my mother?” "Will!" - she answered. “She’s just selfish, she doesn’t want to bother,” I remembered sighing Marina. But Kolya was not given to Mila. It turned out that his mother, who has schizophrenia, was not deprived of parental rights. “It was a blow for me,” she recalled. “I didn’t understand how this could happen... The child is suffering, he needs a family, but nothing can be done.” And then four-year-old Lenochka appeared. The girl had already been taken twice and returned both times. Her character was too playful. Someone in the orphanage said that when the second “mother” dragged her back, Lenochka crawled behind her on her knees, grabbed her skirt and shouted: “Mommy, don’t give me up, please! I won't do it again! When Mila met her, Lena immediately asked: “Will you bring me back too?” “I won’t return it!” – Mila barely said through her tears. But there were also some difficulties with Lena’s adoption. Mila did not elaborate. “But this is my daughter, and I will fight for her!” That day Mila came to the temple for the first time in her life. “I just have nowhere else to go!” - she said. The priest appeared, and Mila went to him. They talked about something for a long time, and she even wrote something down. - Everything will be fine! With God blessing! – I heard his words. And Mila smiled... We walked home together. “You probably think that I’m arrogant and proud,” Mila said. “And I’m just tired of explaining everything to everyone.” And I’ve already heard so much... I said nothing. Mila invited me and the girls to come visit one day and play with the dogs. I agreed. And I will definitely come. But a little later. In the meantime, I'm just very ashamed. And I keep thinking: “Where do we have so much dirt? Why do I have so much dirt in me? Why do we so easily think the worst about a person?” And I really want Mila, this amazing woman whom we all condemned, to do well in the end. So that Lenochka hugs her, clings to her and says: “Mommy!” And she knew that no one would ever give her away again. And so that wonderful kind dogs jump joyfully nearby - Tepa, Mike and Fenya…. Or maybe a miracle will happen and Mila will have a good real husband. And Lenochka will have a brother or sister. It happens, doesn't it? And so that no one will ever say a single bad word to them again! 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«Разводиться, или нет, как благословите? • Russia today Публикация в ЧАТе: Россия» ( Справедливости ради нужно сказать, что случаи, когда жены изменяют мужьям и мужчины приходят за советом к священнику, к сожалению, тоже не редки.) В этой ситуации какого-то однозначного ответа и благословения дать нельзя. Потому что человек, которому изменили, только сам может принять решение: развестись после измены или попытаться уврачевать ситуацию прощением и любовью. За супругов сделать этот выбор не может никто. Потому что жить в браке, где случилась беда только им. Вот почему Евангелие хотя и называет прелюбодеяние единственной причиной для развода, но не дает категорического повеления; обязательно разводиться в случае супружеской измены. Семейные ситуации, причины и обстоятельства прелюбодеяния, готовность супругов к примирению бывают очень и очень разными. Конечно, измена – тяжкий грех, очень серьезная травма для всей семьи. То, что раньше было единым целым в браке, распалось, брак как бы треснул пополам. Далеко не каждая жена и не каждый муж способны жить потом с изменившим им супругом, даже в случае покаяния согрешивший стороны. Законный брачный союз (даже не венчанный) – это соединение двух людей в одну плоть для любви и рождения детей. Святой апостол Павел говорит, что « совокупляющийся с блудницей становится одно тело с ней» (1 Кор.15,16). То есть брачный союз оказывается разорванным и создается другой, беззаконный и греховный союз на основании прелюбодеяния. Любовники в таком союзе соединяются для совершения беззаконного действия – блуда. Один очень опытный священник сказал, что заповеди — это не какие-то запреты, табу, а дорожные знаки, предупреждающие об опасности. Например, на дороге выкопана яма, ограниченная флажками, висят знаки. Можно проигнорировать указание знаков упасть в яму и очень сильно пострадать, а можно объехать опасное место. Седьмая заповедь: «Не прелюбодействуй» говорит: «совершая грех против семьи ты не найдёшь счастья». Измена разрушает не только брак, но и душу того кто изменяет. На чужом горе счастья не построишь. Существует закон духовного равновесия: посеяв зло, грех, мы зло и пожнем , наш грех к нам же и вернется. Прелюбодеяние начинается не с факта физической измены, а гораздо раньше, когда человек даёт себе разрешение на грязные мысли, нескромные взгляды. В Евангелии сказано: всякий, кто смотрит на женщину с вожделением, уже прелюбодействовал с нею в сердце своём» (Мф. 5. 28). В каждом ЗАГСе, за каждым свечным ящиком в церкви, где оформляется венчание, нужно написать большими буквами памятку молодожёнам:«Вступая в брак, я принимаю твёрдое и бесповоротное решение: прожить с моим супругом (или супругой) всю свою жизнь. С момента заключения брака, я не буду рассматривать никого другого, как потенциального супруга (или супругу). Только положив себе такое железное правило, человек не будет терзаться пустыми сомнениями, неудовлетворёнными желаниями, а начнёт жить настоящим, строить крепкие семейные отношения и избежит многих ошибок. Вступающие в брак, должны сжечь все мосты и не оставить для себя никакой лазейки. Только тогда они будут счастливы в семейной жизни. Если произошла измена, можно ли вновь соединить воедино разорванные половинки? Можно, но очень не просто. Ведь даже в результате бытового конфликта, семейной ссоры в отношениях супругов может образоваться трещинка, что уж говорить об измене, предательстве. Можно привести такую медицинскую аналогию: одно дело ушиб или трещина в кости и совсем другое открытый перелом или отрезанная конечность. Хотя и оторванную или отрезанную часть тела при определенных условиях и высокой квалификации врачей можно пришить и она приживется. Одному моему знакомому отрезало фаланги пальцев левой руки и после удачной операции, он даже смог через некоторое время играть на гитаре. Если в случае измены есть условия для примирения, то есть; прощение одной стороны, покаяние другой и взаимная любовь, грех может быть уврачеван и супружеский союз восстановлен. Таких примеров, слава Богу, я знаю немало. Но необходимо знать, что если в семье случилось прелюбодеяние и супруги хотят примириться, им уже нельзя жить так, как они жили до этого. Они должны в корне пересмотреть, улучшить свои отношения, иначе очень велик риск рецидива. Супругам необходимо не просто простить, но и заново полюбить друг друга. Постараемся разобраться в причинах супружеских измен. Как правило, причиной измены является неправильное поведение обеих супругов. Говорят, что от хороших жён и от хорошей жизни мужья не уходят. Хотя, конечно, для всякого правила есть исключения. Даже у супругов, которые давно живут в браке, бывают всякие искушения, как говорится: «седина в бороду – бес в ребро». По статистике мужья изменяют жёнам гораздо чаще, чем жёны мужьям. Этому несколько причин. И повышенная мужская возбудимость, и подчинённое, пассивное положение женщины в обществе и бóльшая привязанность жён к дому и детям, и другое. Конечно, мужчин это всё нисколько не оправдывает. Измена – тяжкий грех, как для мужчины, так и для женщины. Но вернёмся к причинам супружеских измен. Итак, как правило, измене предшествует напряжённость отношений между супругами, их неправильное поведение, тяжелая обстановка в семье. Несправедливо считать, что в основе измены лежит только сексуальное влечение, очень часто человек ищет совсем другого. Ему кажется, что он может найти на стороне то, что он не имеет в супружеской жизни. Перед женой, которая знает все его недостатки слабости мужу очень сложно выглядеть уверенным в себе, сильным, решительным. С любовницей он чувствует себя смелым, блестящим, остроумным, мужественным и т.д. Отношения любовников не предполагают глубины, им очень легко казаться друг перед другом лучше, чем они есть на самом деле, играть какую-то роль, это их ни к чему не обязывает, и это очень заманчиво. Мужчина видит в любовнице (которая, конечно, хочет ему понравиться) как ему кажется, настоящую женщину. А жена «босая, беременная, на кухне», конечно по всем статьям уступает ей. Любовница, как правило, не «достаёт» мужчину ворчанием, требованиями, она не пытается его перевоспитать, ему комфортно рядом с ней. Хотя это всё конечно самообман. Она ведёт себя так только потому, что их отношения поверхностны и не предполагают никакой ответственности. Но во всём этом есть, конечно, и вина жены. Возможно она не создала или не уберегла душевных, доверительных отношений с мужем, утеряла те качества, которые муж ищет теперь в другой женщине. Она часто воспитывала, пилила супруга, не очень-то следила за собой, он не видит от неё красоты, нежности, ласки. Ведь супруги должны быть желанны и привлекательны не для кого-то, а друг для друга. Если произошла измена, но муж готов вернуться в лоно семьи, а жена способна его простить, ей нужно воспринять этот тяжёлый эпизод своей жизни как урок. Что я делала не так, и что искал непутёвый супруг на стороне? Мы сейчас анализировали мужские измены, но всё вышесказанное можно отнести и к женской измене. Если муж являет собой образец настоящего мужчины, вряд ли ему изменит жена. И конечно, обеим супругам нужно запомнить: чтобы между вами никогда не случилось измены, будьте всегда самыми любимыми и желанными друг для друга.прот. Павел Гумеров Седьмая заповедь » ( Справедливости ради нужно сказать, что случаи, когда жены изменяют мужьям и мужчины приходят за советом к священнику, к сожалению, тоже не редки.) В этой ситуации какого-то однозначного ответа и благословения дать нельзя. Потому что человек, которому изменили, только сам может принять решение: развестись после измены или попытаться уврачевать ситуацию прощением и любовью. За супругов сделать этот выбор не может никто. Потому что жить в браке, где случилась беда только им. Вот почему Евангелие хотя и называет прелюбодеяние единственной причиной для развода, но не дает категорического повеления; обязательно разводиться в случае супружеской измены. Семейные ситуации, причины и обстоятельства прелюбодеяния, готовность супругов к примирению бывают очень и очень разными. Конечно, измена – тяжкий грех, очень серьезная травма для всей семьи. То, что раньше было единым целым в браке, распалось, брак как бы треснул пополам. Далеко не каждая жена и не каждый муж способны жить потом с изменившим им супругом, даже в случае покаяния согрешивший стороны. Законный брачный союз (даже не венчанный) – это соединение двух людей в одну плоть для любви и рождения детей. Святой апостол Павел говорит, что « совокупляющийся с блудницей становится одно тело с ней» (1 Кор.15,16). То есть брачный союз оказывается разорванным и создается другой, беззаконный и греховный союз на основании прелюбодеяния. Любовники в таком союзе соединяются для совершения беззаконного действия – блуда. Один очень опытный священник сказал, что заповеди — это не какие-то запреты, табу, а дорожные знаки, предупреждающие об опасности. Например, на дороге выкопана яма, ограниченная флажками, висят знаки. Можно проигнорировать указание знаков упасть в яму и очень сильно пострадать, а можно объехать опасное место. Седьмая заповедь: «Не прелюбодействуй» говорит: «совершая грех против семьи ты не найдёшь счастья». Измена разрушает не только брак, но и душу того кто изменяет. На чужом горе счастья не построишь. Существует закон духовного равновесия: посеяв зло, грех, мы зло и пожнем , наш грех к нам же и вернется. Прелюбодеяние начинается не с факта физической измены, а гораздо раньше, когда человек даёт себе разрешение на грязные мысли, нескромные взгляды. В Евангелии сказано: всякий, кто смотрит на женщину с вожделением, уже прелюбодействовал с нею в сердце своём» (Мф. 5. 28). В каждом ЗАГСе, за каждым свечным ящиком в церкви, где оформляется венчание, нужно написать большими буквами памятку молодожёнам:«Вступая в брак, я принимаю твёрдое и бесповоротное решение: прожить с моим супругом (или супругой) всю свою жизнь. С момента заключения брака, я не буду рассматривать никого другого, как потенциального супруга (или супругу). Только положив себе такое железное правило, человек не будет терзаться пустыми сомнениями, неудовлетворёнными желаниями, а начнёт жить настоящим, строить крепкие семейные отношения и избежит многих ошибок. Вступающие в брак, должны сжечь все мосты и не оставить для себя никакой лазейки. Только тогда они будут счастливы в семейной жизни. Если произошла измена, можно ли вновь соединить воедино разорванные половинки? Можно, но очень не просто. Ведь даже в результате бытового конфликта, семейной ссоры в отношениях супругов может образоваться трещинка, что уж говорить об измене, предательстве. Можно привести такую медицинскую…
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If we do not live in love here, then what do we hope for there? .. Archpriest Valerian Krechetov. Message If we do not live in love here, then what do we hope for there? appeared first on Russia today. Source link
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“My husband and I went to the front.” • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaTogether.I forgot a lot. Although I remember every day...The battle was over... I couldn’t believe the silence. He stroked the grass with his hands, the grass was soft... And he looked at me. I looked... With those eyes... They went as a group on reconnaissance. We waited for them for two days... I didn’t sleep for two days... I dozed off. I wake up because he is sitting next to me and looking at me. "Get some sleep". - “It’s a pity to sleep.”And such a sharp feeling... Such love... My heart breaks... I forgot a lot, I forgot almost everything. And I thought that I wouldn’t forget. I will never forget.We were already walking through East Prussia, everyone was already talking about Victory. He died... Died instantly... From a shrapnel... Instant death. Second. They told me that they had been brought, I ran... I hugged him, I didn’t let him be taken away. Bury. During the war, people were buried quickly: they died during the day; if the battle was quick, they immediately gathered everyone, brought them from everywhere and dug a big hole. They fall asleep. Another time with just dry sand. And if you look at this sand for a long time, it seems that it is moving. Trembling. This sand is swaying. Because there... There are still living people there for me, they were alive recently... I see them, I talk to them... I don’t believe... We all walk and still don’t believe that they are there... Where?And I didn’t let him be buried right away. I wanted us to have one more night. Sit next to him. Look... Iron... In the morning... I decided that I would take him home. To Belarus. And this is several thousand kilometers. Military roads... Confusion... Everyone thought I had gone crazy from grief. “You need to calm down. You need to sleep.” No! No! I went from one general to another, and so I reached the front commander Rokossovsky. At first he refused... Well, she’s kind of crazy! How many have already been buried in mass graves, lying in foreign soil...I once again managed to see him:- Do you want me to kneel before you?- I understand you... But he is already dead... - I don’t have children from him. Our house burned down. Even the photographs were gone. There is nothing. If I bring him home, at least there will be a grave left. And I will have somewhere to return after the war.Silent. Walks around the office. Walking.-Have you ever been in love, Comrade Marshal? I'm not burying my husband, I'm burying love.Silent.“Then I want to die here too.” Why should I live without him?He was silent for a long time. Then he came up and kissed my hand.They gave me a special plane for one night. I entered the plane... I hugged the coffin... And lost consciousness..." Efrosinya Breus, captain, doctor. Original source Source link
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Once the monks spoke about humility and that the closer a person approaches God, the more clearly he realizes his sinfulness. Posting in CHAT: RussiaOne pilgrim, a wealthy city dweller, accidentally overheard their conversation and was surprised: - How can this be? Then one of the monks said to him: - Mister, tell me, who do you consider yourself to be in your city? – In my city, I am the richest, noblest and most famous. - If you go to a neighboring rich trading city, then who will you consider yourself there? “In the next town I would be the last of the rich people.” – And if you go to Constantinople and get closer to the king, then who will you consider yourself to be? Original source Source link
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– Lord, I have no more strength! • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaWhen will this end?! She herself, poor thing, is tormented, she is tormenting us all, and, most importantly, both scenarios for the development of the situation will end the same way: she will come out of a heart attack at 90 years old, she will not come out - the difference, alas, is calculated in months at best... - Natasha, breathing heavily, went down the stairs on the first floor of the hospital. -At least lie down and die! You can’t wait for an elevator, only one of the four works, it stops on each floor, it’s impossible to breathe due to the heat, old women with crutches and a heavy hospital spirit. And the stairs from the sixth floor, where the intensive care unit is, are twelve flights and five doors. I wish I could look this architect in the eye, or even better, put his mother here and let him run to her! And this walk is completely pointless - they still don’t let Lyubov Grigorievna into the intensive care unit, they probably want money, but where can they get it?! And they told us not to bring food, only Borzhom and Morsik, and that’s not necessary. But Natasha can’t help herself. It gets up just before dawn and, like a fish to spawn, without turning back, it drags itself from Lyubertsy, miles away, to this terrible hospital to sit under the door, ask empty questions without answers, and back. And Lyubov Grigorievna doesn’t even know about it. And most likely he will never know. Natasha chuckled at her own thoughts. Amazing thing! Lyubov Grigorievna married her father when Natasha was only nine years old, tried most of all to win her over, was so affectionate and kind that she didn’t even remember her own mother, although she didn’t remember her well at all, but still All her life, Natasha called her stepmother “you,” by her first name and patronymic, and tried to make sure everyone noticed it. And she knew how much Lyubov Grigorievna was offended, how unfair it was, but she couldn’t overcome herself! Even when Lyubov Grigorievna refused the last chance in her years to give birth to her child, bursting into tears at the age of forty-one, she decided to have an abortion, and only because of Natasha, because of her reproaches and scandals, Natasha did not soften, did not accept her as her own. She understood everything, appreciated it, saw what a devoted wife Lyubov Grigorievna was to Natasha’s father, but it was oh so difficult to live with a disabled person! And she expected help from her stepmother in everything, and she accepted this help. Lyubov Grigorievna raised Natasha’s children, adored them, and they adored her, and that’s when everything came together, but nothing changed between her and Natasha. Life passed nearby, in the same apartment, Natasha herself was already twenty years older than Lyubov Grigorievna was when she came to their house, she lived life and understood everything about it, knew that she had pulled out a lucky ticket and that Lyubov Grigorievna could be designated as you like , but not as a stepmother, but when she hit her forehead at the age of nine, she never left her place. In general, Lyubov Grigorievna got it for five. My mother and grandmother died during the blockade; she, dying from dystrophy, was miraculously discovered and taken out with the evacuated orphanage. When, to everyone’s surprise, she survived and was waiting for her father to return from the front so that she could finally be home, instead of him, her father’s cousin came to the orphanage for her, showed him the funeral and took Lyubochka to her place. Other children were jealous: relatives had been found, they would live in the family, and even in Moscow. But they do this out of ignorance. Her life fit into the formula: “I live in a high-rise building, but in the basement.” The aunt was angry with herself that she had taken in an extra parasite, and in order to somehow justify Lyubochka’s stay in their house, she made her a housekeeper, a nanny and a cook all rolled into one, which did not stop her from reproaching her every day with a bowl of soup and remade rags. Lyubochka slept in the kitchen, on a narrow trestle bed under which vegetables were stored, and it seemed to her that she smelled of onions and rotten potatoes for the rest of her life. I didn’t manage to study after school, I went to work at the post office, and then suddenly I started renting musical instruments. And she really liked to sit among the old pianos and grand pianos, their lacquer sides shining dimly, to listen to how tuners and those who wanted to use them checked them, the cacophony did not bother her, and if someone played a melody, Lyubochka, or rather, already Lyubov Grigorievna blossomed and felt at home at the concert in the Tchaikovsky Hall. And if one of the television celebrities came to rent an instrument, she would literally glow from her apparent closeness to the star. It was her constant good mood that their accountant drew attention to and introduced Lyubov Grigorievna to her widower brother, a disabled war veteran, especially since she was tired of messing around with his daughter Natasha. So Lyubov Grigorievna became a family woman and almost a mother. Her husband, Alexey Petrovich, was a good guy and kind, but he could drink, but could not earn money, so they lived hard and meagerly, and in general it was not easy to live with a disabled person. But Lyubov Grigorievna did not complain, she was quite happy with life and continued to smile. Alexei Petrovich died on the fiftieth anniversary of the Victory, and Lyubov Grigorievna did nothing, she kept up her spirit, ran Natasha’s house, raised her granddaughters, waited for her great-granddaughter and was going to celebrate her ninetieth birthday. It even seemed to her that she had cheated time or that she had been given compensation for all her loved ones who had passed away so early. It’s as if they, up there, chipped in for five years and gave her an extra bonus so that she wouldn’t rush to join their company. And she didn’t let them down. Despite the years, she retained a light gait, read without glasses, baked pies as in her youth, and still retained the desire to wear some brand new blouse or dress for the summer, in general - well done, needless to say! And then suddenly everything collapsed. In the morning she ran for cottage cheese, then hung up the laundry from the washing machine, wanted to wipe the floor in the kitchen, but suddenly she lost her breath, it seemed that she had run into something sharp with her left shoulder blade, an unbearable pain spread like boiling water throughout her entire chest, almost forgotten memories flashed before her eyes. , but the familiar faces of mom, grandmother, dad, Alyosha, and she slid like a sack down the kitchen wall. Natasha found her there. I called an ambulance, I thought they wouldn’t make it in time, but no, they did, and they took her to the hospital, and now she’s been dragging herself to the intensive care unit for a month, and time has stopped there and nothing happens. And how long this will last, only God knows. Natasha, of course, wished Lyubov Grigorievna only goodness and health, and not death, but the meaninglessness of such a struggle for life involuntarily occurred not only to Natasha, but also to everyone involved, and an unvoiced question hung in the air. - Okay, if tomorrow I can raise my head myself, I’ll go again. I’ll try to give the nanny a thousand, maybe they’ll at least let her into the intensive care unit for about five minutes so that Lyubov Grigorievna can see Natasha and understand that she’s not abandoned, that they’re worried about her and want her to get better. - Hello, Natalya Alekseevna? They're bothering you from Hospital No. 64. This...You hang in there.. In short, here it is...your relative, Lyubov Grigorievna, died...Today she suffered. Our condolences. Yes, here’s the thing... We have our own funeral director at the hospital, but you still have to organize the funeral and all that. But we understand how difficult it is in days of sorrow. Again, other funeral agents will call you all the time now, just know that their services are both more expensive and worse, but our woman is very good, experienced and delicate. And he lives right next to you. So, if you need help, she will arrive right within half an hour. And she organizes everything herself. You only need to hand over the documents and money to her, and then she does everything herself. And he will fill out the paperwork, and make sure that the deceased is properly prepared, and select all the accessories at a budget price... - It seemed to Natasha that she was in the theater of the absurd. “Agents”, “properly prepared deceased”, “accessories”... Some kind of nonsense! And absolute confusion... They didn’t even say goodbye, everything was not humane, this intensive care unit was inaccessible, like…
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ROPOT • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaArchpriest Andrey Tkachev Beloved in the Lord, today we will talk to you about such an everyday ailment as grumbling. We, priests, are forced to look at the “wrong side of the vacuum cleaner”: stand at confession and listen to human revelations about “great deeds”. We know the world from the other side, as do its workers, for example, morgues, or doctors, or police officers, or prosecutors, those who are most corrupted, because they are constantly faced with the underbelly of the world. Beautiful people walk along the street, but talk to them... “Speak so that I can see you,” writes Plato. The mouth opens, a stream of consciousness begins... - and you think: who is this? A well-fed, young, handsome, well-dressed man with a higher education. What kind of demon is in it? Not even a demon, but a bunch of demons. And one of the demons in this bunch is the demon of murmur. People grumble, are constantly dissatisfied, mutter, grumble, suffer... It would seem, why? And today I would like to talk about how to heal from this dissatisfaction with life. The writer Arkady Averchenko has several short short stories, quite witty, about the revolution that took place in Russia. In one of them, he describes a certain guy, a shoemaker, who, according to him, earns little and is always dissatisfied. He did his job, with the money he earned he bought himself a little caviar, a little stellate sturgeon, some fresh bread, a little of this, a little of that, a small glass of vodka... He drinks, snacks on caviar and complains about life. He says: “I wish this government would change soon.” And so the power changed, and now he receives a salary for the same work, with which he buys himself stale bread, without stellate sturgeon and caviar and without anything at all, and a bag of moonshine. And he drinks bitterly and doesn’t know what else to want. Because what happened, it turns out, was wonderful, it was wonderful. And what was there to complain to the idiots?! – Averchenko asks this person “off-screen”. Why were you complaining? Are you feeling bad? - Buy a goat. There is a Jewish joke. A “sufferer” came to the rabbi and complained: “Lord, have mercy. A small hut, a bunch of children, an old mother in her arms, nothing to breathe, nowhere to live...” “And you buy a goat,” says the rabbi. - “Which goat?” - “The real one! The one that runs, the one that can be milked...” - “And where should I ram this goat?” - “Yes, straight to your hut and ram it. Then you’ll see what happens.” The “sufferer” bought a goat and lives. Everything remains as it was: the mother is old, the children can’t breathe, there’s nowhere to live, and the goat is running around and wants to be milked. Again the “sufferer” goes to the rabbi: “I will go crazy from such a life! I’ll hang myself!.. What should I do?” - “Sell the goat.” He sold it and ran back to the rabbi: “What a beauty! It’s so good without a goat!” Buy a goat, you murmurer. Are you feeling bad? Do you want to get sick? If they find you have cancer, will it be better? Or what if you break your leg, or crash your car, or your loved one leaves you? Or if your neighbors flood you? Do you want problems? Who wants problems, complain about your health. God will give you problems, and you will be happy: “God, how good it was before. And yesterday it was so wonderful!” “Happiness was so possible...” My friends, you cannot grumble. We live in a uniquely well-fed world. In a world uniquely beautifully dressed. We live in a healthy, comfortable world in which individual rights are respected. No one will forcefully drag us by the collar into slave labor. No one will force us to do what we don’t want. They will make fun of us, and any policeman who, in good times, would hit you on the head with a club, will say: “Dear citizen, please show us your documents. Please come here." Otherwise they won’t talk to us – they’re afraid. Everyone is afraid that they will have to answer. So why are you complaining, what do you want?! What does a person need so as not to grumble? What can I give you to make you happy? Turn on your imagination. So they settled you on an island in the Caribbean, gave you a yacht, a house for three months free of charge, and you could drink and eat whatever you wanted. Will you be happy there? Only two days. So what is next? And then - the sand is prickly, the sun is hot, the pineapple is tasteless, the motor in the boat has stalled... It will start again. Everything will be bad again. Everything is bad for a bad person. Everything is good for a good person. I listen to confessions, conversations, all sorts of whining from morning to evening. Like any priest, I'm tired of whining. Why don't you thank God? Why do you come to the Church, even to this holy house of God, the Gates of Heaven, Jacob's Ladder, to complain and whine? Why do you continue at the foot of Jacob’s Ladder: “Give me this!.. Give me that!..” Why don’t you thank? Gratitude is the best cure for despondency. This is gratitude. We need to teach people in confessions and sermons: “Stop asking! Give thanks, praise God." Just think about how we live?! Such an interesting experience: several years ago, maybe five or more, one journalist imagined the world as a village of 100 people and calculated the gross product of this world. How many people, how many men, how many women. How many are black, how many are white. How many believers? The statistics turned out to be interesting. The gross product of the entire village is concentrated in the hands of two people, both of whom live in America. 70 people are illiterate, 30 are literate. The vast majority have a living wage of $1 per day. For 30-40 out of 100 - 5-7-8-10 dollars. We get to the top number. Competent. We eat well. So that our ancestors ate this way! If our ancestors had risen from their graves and sat down at our table and looked at the pickles that we eat, they would have said: “Well, brothers, you live in paradise!” If they climbed into the bath, straightened their legs under hot water and rested in the soapy foam for half an hour, or turned on the TV, listened to some song... - they would tell you: “What did you do to deserve such a magnificent life?! But in the 9th, 10th, 11th, 15th, 18th... centuries we lived completely differently, and we did not complain. We gnawed on the cracker and rejoiced.” Paisiy Svyatogorets spoke about the time when he prayed on Mount Sinai in the monastery of St. Catherine. This monastery was “served” by Bedouins: they accompanied tourists there, earning a living from this, bringing water, food... Bedouins are Arabs, not Christians, they are Muslims. Paisiy Svyatogorets said: “I remember those Bedouins: when they had a pinch of tea and a little sugar, they danced on one leg with joy and thanked God that they had tea and sugar. And the Jews... oh, those Jews! They built them cottages in the desert and brought them broken down cars from all over Israel as gifts. Now every Bedouin has a broken car - and they have no joy.” Civilization burdens man with false benefits and robs him of joy. She makes him an ungrateful boor, makes him grumble, envy, and dream about himself. “Why is it them and not me?! Why are they shown on TV and not me? Why does he have this and I don’t?” – fallen man lives in such vile thoughts. And if you don’t change these thoughts, you will never see happiness. You will live your whole life like a whining schmuck and die unhappy. And you won’t see heaven, because in heaven everyone is grateful. People's hands were cut, and they thanked God; their eyes were gouged out - they thanked God. People were lowered into fire or boiling tar - they said: “Glory to Thee, Lord, glory to Thee!” In heaven everyone is grateful. There is not a single whiner in heaven. If there was an excursion to paradise, we would walk around paradise and wonder: “Where are the whining, crying, suffering people?” Eeyore cannot enter heaven. In Winnie the Pooh's Heaven. Winnie the Pooh is fine. He always sings: “There is sawdust in my head, tra-ta-ta.” He's having fun. But Eeyore always doubts: “Is this so?” - “How are you doing, donkey?” - "Badly. What can I expect from those who interfere with my life?” Everything is bad for the donkey Eeyore. The donkey will not be in heaven, but Winnie the Pooh will be. This is an optimist who knows that he has sawdust in his head - he is self-critical: “I’m stupid, my penmanship is bad ...” - but he is cheerful. A Christian should be a strong, cheerful, self-critical…
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Cherry jam. • Russia today Posting in CHAT: RussiaArchimandrite SAVVA (Majuko) As a child, I could spend hours looking at pictures in children's books. The mouse is sitting in a hole. It's so cozy and warm there. The bed is covered with a modest patchwork blanket, on the wall there is a shelf of books, a lamp, a portrait of the mouse’s grandmother... And the moon rises over the hole, and the forest is dark and damp, but this is not at all scary, because the mouse will finish the tea with cherry jam and put down the cup on the table, wrap himself in a warm blanket and, turning off the lamp, will listen to the night rustles, the dull sobs of the swamps and the soft tread of someone big and heavy in the distance. Recently I was given a bed. Usually they give books or teddy bears, but the life of a monk is full of unexpected foolishness. In a monastery you somehow don’t think about beds - stupid and immodest - so I slept all the time on a narrow trestle bed, quite hard and ascetic, and did not think that it could be otherwise. Sleeping on a hard surface is useful and life-saving, although the sleep is not the same and you toss and turn all night like a hedgehog.The new bed appeared unexpectedly and immediately began to influence the entire order of things, silently showing that it was a bed only in name, but in fact it was the organizing principle of the cell universe. The bookcases timidly made room, the desk moved shyly - the authorities of the past reckoned with the new owner. The bed, although a gift, required unexpected expenses: I bought a new blanket, a pillow with boats, and hung a rug on the wall. There is a lamp at the headboard - read books even until the morning. Everything is new, clean, soft - toss and turn as much as you want - you won’t fall out of nowhere. Before going to bed I drank tea with cherry jam - delicious, sour. I put on a pea shirt, lit a lamp, and lay down. He tucked the blanket in on all sides and fluffed the pillow. So quiet and warm. It’s drizzling outside the window, the old apple trees are whispering sedately. Soft light, a soft bed, under the lamp - Virgil, and - there is still a lot of time until the morning, a lot, a whole mountain of time. And this simple and accessible experience of comfort awakened in me something completely unusual, which cannot be called either a thought or a feeling, but rather an experience, a kind of total feeling that I am alive! The pillow smells of lavender, subtle, barely noticeable, the book breathes its incomparable aroma, I touch the yellowed page and feel the subtle relief of letters and lines, the woven pattern of the sheet echoes in the palm of my hand. I run my hand over the carpet and the books hanging over the bed. The books are silent, but I read their spines with a touch, their names kiss my fingers. This is what I'm reading! I absorb the smells of the world around me, it is my heart that beats with joy and excitement, it is some wonderful melody that continuously sounds in my mind, not allowing me to come close and not letting me go far away from myself. And suddenly I realized that this experience of being alive and special is self-love. The Lord commanded us to love our neighbor as ourselves (Matthew 22:39), but if I experience myself as alive and exceptional, then this coincidence of love and life shows me that in the same way I must learn to experience the life and uniqueness of another . After all, my neighbor is not entirely alive for me: I do not feel him as alive as myself. He is external, he is not alive enough for me. Another person's fingers, his hair, his lips - are they exactly the same as mine? Outwardly - yes. But in everyone lives the consciousness of some kind of special exclusivity: I am different, I should not and cannot perish in vain, there is something pricelessly important in me and this whole world will die with me if I die. But I won’t die, this can’t happen to me, I’m special, there haven’t been and won’t be:I am the bearer of great thought -I can't, I can't die!(N. Gumilev) Why does this consciousness of one’s own exclusivity, a strong faith in one’s own special path, faith in one’s indestructibility and specialness live persistently and restlessly in every person? What is this? Pride? Or is there something more fundamental and natural here, which is older in right and age than the most ancient vice? The gift of life, the joy of being, is the purpose and meaning of human life. Man was created to live and receive joy from it. The main work of our life is to learn to love our neighbor as ourselves. To learn to experience it as alive and unique as I am. My neighbor is like an alien planet on which I must discover life. For a lover, the beloved is too alive, their lives are mutually permeable and mutually vulnerable:Your pains hurt in me, your strength accumulates in me.(A. Dementyev) Both the pain and joy of a loved one are experienced as my own pain and joy - alive and real. The mother feels her child too alive, grows up with him, the two of them are teething and their tummy hurts, and it happens that the son grows up and moves far, far away, but the mother feels his life and dying, grief and joy even on the other side of the world. Self-love in a person is so deep and cannot be reduced to self-care, no matter in what way it manifests itself, spiritual or material, or to anything else. This love manifests itself and emerges extremely rarely and, like many deep-seated human phenomena, often does not reach consciousness and therefore cannot be subjected to reflection. But this love is at the core of the human being, where the roots of self-consciousness and self-preservation converge and intertwine. This wonderful and unsteady edge of existence, called by the Creator from non-existence...It is in this depth that one should look for love for one’s neighbor, because he is an inextricable part of myself. Moreover, this love is natural to man. It is unnatural not to love your neighbor, for this is suicide... But there are so many people and they are so different. In the fact that there is such a huge number of people, often faceless and uninteresting, there is some kind of unjustified excess, something superfluous. But a cat is also something extra. This pet does not bring any practical benefit in most cases. Ask cat lovers: why do they need this useless animal? The incomprehensible impressionistic answers can be reduced to one remark: because cats are w-di-vi-tel-ny-e! The Lord gave us cats so that we would rejoice and be surprised by them. The Lord gives us our neighbors so that we learn to rejoice and be amazed at them as a miracle, as a mystery, as a beauty that is always abundant and inexplicable... We are very inattentive to each other, frighteningly inattentive, and before indulging in ascetic deeds, we should learn simple human attention, about which the Apostle Paul tirelessly wrote: be brotherly loving towards one another with tenderness; warn one another in respect (Rom. 12:10)… Most likely, I don’t love my neighbors; one might say, I have a strange attitude towards the love of neighbors itself. But I know too much that people are something truly beautiful, this is beauty that I will definitely learn to admire. People, like flowers, are useless and beautiful, there are many of them, they are capricious, but the Lord created them for the joy of an abundance of love, and I also participate in this joy. I hear the distant sounds of her melody and can’t make out the motive, but it’s something wonderful, they’re singing it to me!Someone else's joy is just like your own,It torments her and breaks out of her heart,And the girl rejoices and laughs,Captivated by the happiness of existence.(N. Zabolotsky) Original source Source link