Fifteenth Anniversary of Our Temple (excerpt from the book)

Age of the century

Our temple and our eldest son are the same age, if you count on the scale of life. On July 16, 1999, the first Divine Liturgy took place in our church and my wife Lena went to give birth to her first child. Borya was born twenty days later - to Boris and Gleb. This year marks the fifteenth anniversary of that memorial service. During this time, there were several epochs and two eras in the history of our temple. We consider the service of a priest to be an era, no matter how long it may be, and our New Era is the emergence of the village of Nikolsky next to our church, created from scratch and now populated by large families of Orthodox priests and laity. In these families, children are also growing up, the same age as our temple, century, and millennium. We want to tell the story of the construction of the temple and the first years of service in it for these children. Years run very fast, and human memory is short. I wish that at least sometimes someone would remember those people who, by their service to God, made church life possible in our most beautiful corner of the Russian land.

The first era can be considered the time when the construction of the temple was conceived, blessed and carried out. It was the time of our youth. As they say now - "dashing 90s." Someone, feeling the wind of change, rushed to make capital, and my friends and I decided to build a church.

Sailors have a saying: "He did not pray, who did not go to sea." Based on the experience of our church building, this proverb can be rephrased as follows: “He who did not build churches did not experience difficulties.” We have repeatedly encountered seemingly insurmountable obstacles. And every time we witnessed the amazing help of God, dispelling these "insurmountable difficulties" like smoke. This help came through people at those critical moments when it seemed that there was nowhere to wait for help. I told some of these stories to Father Leonid Beresnev, confessor of the Tver diocese, and asked him: “Can you write down these stories?” To which he replied: “I’ll tell you, if you don’t write, you will sin.”

Blessing of the Lord

The first miracle in the history of our church can be considered the blessing of Bishop Victor, Archbishop of Tver and Kashin, and now Metropolitan, to build a church. Our village is the last in the Tver diocese. It starts in two kilometers Yaroslavl region. Getting to us is not always easy. The spring thaw makes our road a swamp, and it is closed to all modes of transport. But you can not close it, still no one will be able to pass.

At the time when we started building the church, the collective farm was still alive. When the spring thaw was coming to an end, one collective farmer-tractor driver found a good kind of business. He plowed up and down the road with his tractor and waited, like a hunter waiting for game, when someone wanted to drive to our village in a car. "Game" drove up to a section of the road broken by a tractor and went to bow to the tractor driver. For two bottles, a collective farmer on a tractor dragged anyone who wanted to our village through the mud, and for two bottles he dragged back. This business ended unexpectedly simply.

Once, having ferried some motorist, and having drunk his fee, this tractor driver fell asleep on the move in the cab of his tractor. There was nothing on the way of the fallen tractor driver that could stop him. A tractor with a sleeping rider fell off a cliff into the Volga in shallow water, but did not roll over, but drove further into the Volga. The collective farmer woke up up to his neck in water in the middle of the river, turned off the engine, said that he was thinking about all this, swam to the shore and went to sleep. After that, the tractor was taken away from him. There was nothing left to plow the road, it dried up and became a carriageway in the summer. But in the rains, in autumn and winter, after snow drifts, our village remained cut off from the "Great Land".

The fact that Vladyka Victor gave his blessing to build a temple in a place where “one cannot pass on foot, and one cannot pass on horseback” is a real miracle. After all, “the hearts of the Masters are ruled by the Lord.” Vladyka believed that with God's help, even in such a wilderness, we would be able to build a temple, and the Divine Liturgy would be celebrated in it. I must say that my spiritual father, Archpriest Vladimir Vorobyov, rector of the Orthodox St. Tikhon State University, also believed in this, and he wrote a letter to Vladyka asking him to bless the construction of this church.

pioneers

The pioneers of this corner of the Russian land for all of us, the parishioners of the temple, were the kindred families of the Makeevs and Vishnyakovs. Alexander Olegovich Makeev and his whole family are geographers and travelers. He traveled with expeditions throughout our country and half the world, and chose our village of Selishchi as one of the most beautiful places in Russia, and maybe the world. He is the first settler and discoverer of this new land for us. His personality can be compared with Patriarch Abraham, only not on the scale of an entire nation, but on the scale of our settlement. Struck by the amazing beauty of this corner of Russia, he began to invite relatives and friends here, proposed to create a youth camp of the Orthodox St. Tikhon's Theological Institute here, he invited us too. We came to visit him in October. At night there was the first frost and a little snow fell, and before that it was warm. We went to see the forest. I was shocked by the richness and beauty of the nature of this region. In the pure pine forest stood birch and white boletus, ringing from the first frost, slightly powdered with snow. Frozen clusters of berries as large as grapes hung on blueberry and blueberry bushes. The little marsh was strewn with red, frost-sweet cranberries. A not frightened hare jumped out from under his feet. Cranes cooed in the sky.

When we decided to build a temple here, the first who supported this idea and invested in this business the savings of their families were the Makeev and Vishnyakov families. It is from these families c their active decision to build a temple, the revival of our village began.

And in the creation of the parish of our church, as they say, Roman Nikolaevich Getmanov became the "key" figure. Speaking figuratively, Grandfather Fog caught Roman Nikolayevich in his net. Everyone knows that Roman Nikolaevich is a passionate fisherman. And when he first came to see our region, they arranged a fishing trip on the Volga especially for him. Grandfather Fog gave his old homemade net for this purpose. From the very first cast, a flock of perches got into the seine - about a bucket of fish. Roman Nikolaevich exclaimed in delight, looking at this wealth: “I sit all day in winter to catch at least half of this!” And I immediately decided that I needed to buy a house in our village for my large family. Roman Nikolaevich, as a very active and sociable person, began to invite friendly large families with him. So the families of Vishnevsky, Raushenbakh, Berezhanov, Lavdansky settled in our village. We also began to call our friends and so the families of Klochkovs, Pankovs, Meretskovs, Mukhanovs, Kurakins, Merkushenkos settled in the village. All these families, most of which had many children, began to help the church under construction as much as they could. Roman Nikolaevich Getmanov sent his own brother Seryozha to the construction site, who came to the construction site every day and helped to lift heavy logs. Maxim Lavdansky, a father of many children, came to help roll the logs up to the top in order to assemble the foot of the future church. Masha Vishnevskaya, mother of many children, helped to sing at almost every service.

But our large families had no real strength to build a temple. There were neither sufficient funds, nor strength, time, experience to do everything on their own, as it was in the Russian villages before, when all the peasants were carpenters, and they could even build a small temple even “in one day”.

And then, out of nowhere, helpers appeared. The Lord sent people to help us, sometimes completely unknown before. And the temple was raised and prepared for the first liturgy. The following pages of our history are about these people.

Hasek

When we first thought about building our church, and not a single stone had yet been laid in the foundation, one meeting took place. In the summer camp, we sat by the fire on the banks of the Volga and discussed the idea of ​​a temple. Two young guys approached the fire - a tall, red-haired heroic physique and a small one with black stubble on his head. We met, got to talking and shared the idea of ​​building a church in our village. And immediately one of our acquaintances said that he was a "Satanist". And he added that although he was baptized, but way back he didn’t, and, as proof, he showed a tattoo on his chest - a cross depicted “upside down”. It turned out that he did not work anywhere and did not study. And he spent his young life among "friends" - "Satanists". He came to our village to visit his uncle and grandfather, whom he visited every summer. And, accordingly, he brought with him his current life, alcohol, drugs and a sixteen-year-old woman, from whom he already had a six-month-old child. This new acquaintance left the impression of complete darkness and horror. I began to fear that he would harm our undertaking with the temple, or, which seemed even more terrible, that he would kill me or any of us if he watched in the evening.

A year after this meeting, Vladyka Victor laid the foundation stone for the temple and blessed the construction. It was necessary to start, but there was no one to start with. Only old man Fog from the other side sailed on oars and helped us in everything. With him, we dug ditches for the foundation and began to knead the concrete. The case progressed very slowly, there was no sand and stone, it was necessary to carry wheelbarrows from the shore. There was no money to order sand either, barely enough only for cement. For three days, Tuman and I took turns hauling sand and kneading concrete. The entire population of our village watched us with interest, but no one came to help. And then our last year's acquaintances appeared again. Their names were Denis and Hasek. Hasek called Denis Pons. Denis was a very large and stout young man, very strong in appearance and could only look like a donut in early childhood. True, his hair was the color of a toasted bread crust. And Hasek - "Satanist" was small, frail and black. The guys walked around, looked and left, and the next day in the morning they drove up in an old cart drawn by a gelding. On a cart, they began to carry sand from the shore, and Mist and I kneaded concrete. Things got more fun.

When almost the entire foundation of the church was poured into the ground, Hasek was going somewhere. Before leaving, he said that his friend was “disappeared” and that he was going to deal with those who, in his opinion, were to blame for this “disappearance”. After this departure, Hasek disappeared too. They did not find either him or those to whom he went to meet.

In an amazing way, the Lord sent us as helpers the one from whom we expected anything, but not help. In the early days of building the temple, we encountered the death of one of our builders. The death of any person always makes you think about your destiny, about God, about the meaning of life. How to understand the death of a very young guy who voluntarily came to help build the temple? I heard from one priest that the main thing at the moment of death is the direction of the soul. Where does the human soul aspire – to God or away from Him? When Hasek came to help build the temple, he undoubtedly took a step towards Christ. And that was the end of his life.

And another priest told me that the devil at all times requires human sacrifices. In particular, this misanthropic essence of his manifests itself during the construction of new temples, it is so objectionable to him. Then, many years later, I asked the people who built the churches what their experience was. Nowhere was it without difficulties, and often not without sacrifice.

Vasya

On the banks of the Volga, not far from our temple, there is a worship Cross. It was installed by Father Ivan Emelyanov a year before the start of the construction of the church at the end of the August shift of the Orthodox Youth Camp. We decided to put this cross in the village as a sign that someday a temple will be built here. Local residents gathered for the feast of the installation of the Cross and the guys from the camp came. Quite a lot of people gathered from neighboring villages. The cross was ten meters high from a whole pine log. This cross was made in advance, in the village, since it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to transport or move such a large cross from the forest where the camp was located. The whole village knew about it and watched with interest. It was decided to combine the installation of the Cross with the end of the camp shift. It happened on the Transfiguration.

Vasya, one of the inhabitants of our village, every day came up to the Cross lying on the ground and asked: “When are we going to put it up?”. At first they wanted the fourteenth of August, on the First Spas. Vasya was delighted, his vacation ended on the fifteenth. But for some reason they moved it to the Transfiguration, to the nineteenth. And Vasya, without hesitation, took a vacation at his own expense, in order to carry this Cross with everyone. This act of his shocked me. Vasya was not church man. Each time, approaching the Cross, he said, burping a little: "I'm aiming to carry this Cross." And he fulfilled this dream of his and left happy immediately after the installation of the Cross.

A year later, he was among those who came to help build the church frame. And a year later he died of a heart attack. He had a heart condition and was overweight. With logs, he helped only on the ground, made fun of his fullness, saying that the forests would collapse under his weight. Vasya was a very lively and cheerful person. He was very fond of jokes. As many anecdotes as I heard from Vasya during the construction of the church, I have never heard in my life, and I am unlikely to hear. Rest after each log installed on the log house turned not into a smoke break, but into continuous laughter. Vasya was a kind person everyone loved him. He aspired to God, and this desire of his was expressed first in a vacation at his own expense, and then in helping to build a temple. I don't like jokes, but I miss Vasya's jokes.

Ilyich

If you ask what word “Ilyich” rhymes with, then from school years the first thing that comes to mind, thanks to the famous poem by Tvardovsky, is the word “brick”. Ilyich was a stove-maker and went around the villages, asking: “Does anyone need to repair the stove or lay down a new one?” So he came to us. We were building our first living space and needed a stove. Ilyich undertook to lay it down from the old brick left over from the old destroyed Russian stove. By this time, the foundation of the church had already been poured into the ground. It was necessary to make the above-ground part of the brick. The family of Volodya Shchukin and Marina Vasilyeva wanted to donate money for the foundation. But, since the temple did not have its own account, they decided to transfer this charitable payment to the Christian Charity and Enlightenment Foundation, which at that time was led by Vladimir Pavlovich Sukhov, a believer, honest and decent person. The day after the money was transferred, the bank where this Fund kept all its funds collapsed. Vladimir Pavlovich managed to scratch out only half of the amount transferred to the foundation from the management of this collapsed bank, and the rest of the money was lost forever. It was the end of the nineties.

With all the meager remaining funds, they bought as many bricks as they could. And they also needed funds for the work of a bricklayer. And then Ilyich, who slowly laid the stove in our house, seeing our problems, offered his help. He said: "I am a bricklayer, I will lay the foundation for free, but you will give me a brick and knead the mortar."

Children brought bricks, adults kneaded the mortar, and Ilyich led out the walls of the foundation of the temple along a plumb line and a cord. Ilyich worked very quickly and professionally, we could hardly keep up with him. The children joked: "Ilyich again demands a brick!" When the foundation was ready, Ilyich returned to the stove he had begun and completed it. More than fifteen years have passed since then. The foundation stands, the temple stands, and Ilyich's stove regularly heats the house and bakes pies. Having completed the stove, Ilyich decided to stay with us to help roll up the logs of the church's log house, even though he was almost eighty years old. He helped "to the last log." And then he went further into the villages, looking for work, food and shelter. Is he alive? Do not hear about the stove-maker Ilyich in the district.

Voldemar

During the construction of the foundation of the church, such an incident occurred. In order to put a log house on the foundation, it was necessary to check whether all the corners were brought out “by level” so that there would be no distortion in the church building. As funny as it sounds, we couldn't do it ourselves. We didn't have any building experience. A small level was not suitable for this, and we did not know about the hydraulic level. We decided that the only device that accurately shows the height of each corner is a level. But where to get it? Suddenly, the next day, a ship is sailing along the Volga. A strange ship moored to our shore, and the first of it to land on land was a man with a level. We to him:

"Help us measure the height of the corners of the foundation."

"No, I can't, I have a lot of work to do."

The man refused, and two hours later he came to the construction site of the church and began to measure the corners.

“So, it’s even here, but here they mowed down by seven centimeters, it is necessary to level it.”

"Thank you! Tell me, what is your name, for whom to pray?

"No, no, I won't tell."

And he didn't take any money. And when this boat sailed from our shore, he shouted: "Voldemar, Voldemar is called."

Never again Voldemar with a level did not appear in our area, only on the day when it was necessary to continue work on the church.

Gennady

The frame of the church was cut down by carpenters from the city of Kalyazin. We agreed that we would pay in installments. Most of the money for the construction of the log house was donated by the Makeev and Vishnyakov families, our family also made its “mite”, but the carpenters “turned down” the price and lacked two and a half thousand dollars. And the due date was approaching. The work has already been completed - the main frame of the church has been completed. Payback time was approaching. And there was no money.

Unexpectedly, we received a phone call from the Nikolo-Kuznetsk Church and asked my wife and I to sing the Baptismal Liturgy, saying that they could not find singers for this service. Lena and I went to sing. Arriving, we were surprised to see the regent Vladimir Pavlovich Zaitsev and his entire large choir. Our presence as choristers at this service was no longer obligatory. The phone call with a request to come and sing the service by all means was a mistake. But, having arrived at the Liturgy, we decided to stay and sing in Vladimir Pavlovich's choir.

At this Baptismal Liturgy, several infants and one adult man named Gennady, with a bright oriental appearance, were baptized. The liturgy passed, Gennady and the babies were baptized and communed. Everyone left after the service, but for some reason Lena and I lingered and were left alone in the church. Suddenly, Gennady, who had just been baptized, enters the empty church. Seeing no one but us in the church, he approached Lena and me and said: “I want to thank the singers, I know that their salary is small ...” With these words, he gives us a bundle and leaves. Lena and I decided that this bundle should be given to Vladimir Pavlovich, the choir director who sang the service. We went to the refectory, met Vladimir Pavlovich there, gave him this bundle and sat down to dinner. A young priest, our friend, who was not at this liturgy and did not know that we sang this service, entered the refectory. He could not contain his joy and shared with us: “We just baptized one here, he has a Volvo in the color of his jacket, he donated to the temple.” He took a tight bundle of green 100-dollar bills from his pocket and, crunching them savoryly, put them back in his cassock pocket and left. And Lena says to me: “Here is a person who could save you.” I answer her: "What are you, for what reason, I'm nobody to him." And we went home.

In the evening next day we had to sing at the service according to the schedule, but in different churches. (The service was performed simultaneously in St. Nicholas and Trinity churches, located nearby). I sang in the St. Nicholas Church, and Lena regented in the Trinity. Suddenly, during the service (during the reading of the Six Psalms), a boy from the Lenin Choir came and handed me a note: “Come to Trinity Urgently.” After the service, I went to the Trinity Church, where the service also ended. There was almost no one in the church, but at the entrance I unexpectedly ran into “nose to nose” with the same newly baptized Gennady. He recognized me and greeted me first. Then I remembered that yesterday Lena told me about him: "Here is a man who can save you." I tell him: “Hello. My wife thinks you can save me." And I told him that we are building a church, that the log house is ready, in two days to pay, but two and a half thousand dollars are not enough. Gennady tells me: “I was supposed to meet one person here, but he did not come. I should have given him the money, just the amount you need. But since he is not there, I will give this money for the construction of your church, and I will meet with him tomorrow and then I will take the money for him.” With these words, Gennady took out a pre-prepared bundle, gave it to me, and then got into his Volvo in the color of his jacket and left. I never saw him again.

Grandfather Fog

Since autumn, work on the church has stopped. There was no money, no materials, no workers who could continue construction. The church had no roof. Last year, the construction of the church was led by grandfather Tuman - Tumanov Dmitry Vasilyevich. He was a friend of the same father, Boris Starodubov, who brought us to the Orphanage in Uglich. Grandfather Tuman was a peasant all his life, was a carpenter, and in his youth he sat for "valiant daring." He lived on the other side of the Volga and came to help us with the blessing of Father Boris. Under his leadership, we were able to make the foundation and lay down the frame of the future church. When it came to the roof, the material and money ran out, Fog said: “I’m already an old man, I feel dizzy at a height, I’ll help you on the ground, and someone else will make the roof.”

Grandfather Tuman came to our children from the orphanage, taught them to work in the garden, mow hay, make stairs, plant axes and hammers, and we learned a lot from our friend Tuman, a good old peasant. He told the children wonderful stories from his life. Some of them are so remarkable that it is worth briefly retelling them.

One day, Father Boris saw that Tuman had been tattooed on his chest since prison time. Orthodox cross, but there is no pectoral cross. The fog regretted his violent youth and repented as best he could. He was shy about his tattoos. Father Boris solved this issue in an unusual way. “Dmitry Vasilievich, let me bless this cross on you, wear it like a pectoral cross.” The priest read a prayer for the consecration of the cross and sprinkled Tuman with holy water. Since then, the Fog considered his tattoo a shrine.

Once Tuman was fishing in the middle of the Volga in the spring. The day was warm, the ice was melting. When grandfather got ready to go home and took a few steps, the ice fell under him. His wife, Nadezhda Alexandrovna, was on the shore every spring fishing, looking at her grandfather, who had gone two kilometers across the ice. Seeing her old man in the hole, she raised a cry. Soon, two peasants ran with their legs to the polynya. The fog had been in the icy water for more than half an hour. He couldn't get out on his own. They dragged him out, brought him home, drank for three and threw him on the stove. In the morning he didn't even have a runny nose.

Fog had a faithful dog, Cuba. Once, my grandfather went on his old boat for mushrooms to the other side, and in this place the Volga flood is five kilometers away. As soon as they got ashore, Cuba chased the hare and disappeared. The fog called her, called her and sailed away home. Thought the dog was gone. Three days later, in calm weather, he heard barking from the other side. "Cuba!" The dog heard the owner's voice, which flew over five kilometers through the water, and rushed into the Volga to the call of the Fog. Two hours later she was at home and then slept for a day. The fog cried and said: "I thought it would drown."

When old Tuman lived with us, we read the book “Father Arseny” at the table about the holy ascetic of the twentieth century, who spent about twenty years in Soviet camps and prisons. Father Arseniy, by the strength of his faith, in the most difficult circumstances of life, was able to support any person, console, and sometimes miraculously save from death and despair. Tuman was in prison during those same years. He listened, listened and said: "Everything is true."

Fog died of grief. His wife Nadezhda Aleksandrovna was ill for a long time and died of cancer. The fog could not live long after her death. He cried for her for six months, prayed and drank. He did not survive the winter. Rest, Lord, the soul of your servant, our friend old Tuman, Dmitry Vasilyevich.

About Dmitry Vasilievich, old Tuman, I wrote not by chance. We managed to pull out several children from the orphanage environment. For these children, the life experience was living with parents who either drank heavily, or died, or were in prison, or threw these children out as unnecessary things. Alyosha was in the orphanage from birth, he did not remember either his mother or father, whom he had never seen. Katya - from the age of three, her mother left Vanya at the age of 10 at the station, her father took the Zakharovs with her mother to Ukraine, but then went on a walk with another woman, a Ukrainian, and kicked out these “Russians”: “Go,” he says, “to your Russia Ukrainians are mine, but Russians are not mine.” In Russia, their mother was imprisoned for parasitism, and they were killed in prison, and the children were handed over to an orphanage. Masha and her younger brothers stole from buses. The experience of life in the orphanage was no better. These are beatings of elders, debauchery, and “state security” for free, without the obligation to work, i.e. accustoming to idleness.

When the guys got into the family, they got into another world. Masha Lagutina, the most talented of all, said: “When we are here, it seems that the orphanage is not there, and when we are there, it seems that you are not.” Communication with people like Grandfather Tuman opened up a different world for the guys, the world of real personalities, real people. The images of such people could change the vector of life of these unfortunate orphans. From the first year of our shelter's existence, we tried to attract real people so that the children could see the beauty of their souls, see a different example, an image of a different, real good life.

Sasha Kapitonov

In the middle of that summer, when the work on the church stood up and did not move anywhere, two cyclists unexpectedly came to us. One of them began to say: “I envy you. Why didn't I cut down your church? I am the best carpenter in Kalyazin. I have long dreamed of building a temple. I will help you. Pay a penny - I'll leave, I'll never come again. It was Sasha Kapitonov.

After some time, Sasha brought two tractors of logs bought with his money, and soon, together with our boys, he began to build the roof of the temple. Alyosha Falin and Vanya Dadonov helped him. Alyosha Zakharov was only seven years old, he skinned logs with an axe. The girls painted the grayed logs with Pinotex.

Sasha was an unusual person. In 1995, a year before the laying of our church, the fisherman Kolya Korobochkin, with the guys from the St. Tikhon Theological Institute, who were vacationing in these parts, set worship cross from a log eleven meters high on a monastery island near the city of Kalyazin. The Holy Trinity Monastery of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky used to stand on this site. When they built the Uglich Dam and thought that the monastery would sink, they made a mistake in their calculations. Almost the entire city of Kalyazin was flooded, and the monastery remained on an elevated island. And then the monastery was blown up. The monastery island was chosen for meetings by lovers and the island began to be called the Island of Love. It was on this island that the fisherman Kolya Korobochkin placed the Cross. Sasha saw this Cross in winter. And he was shocked. From that moment on, he began to walk on the ice once a week to the Island and prayed before the Cross. On one of these trips to the Island, Sasha saw a monk fisherman on the ice. He was surprised that there was a monk here, because there is no monastery in the city of Kalyazin and there are no monks among the priests. When Sasha passed by, the monk spoke to him, said a few simple kind words. Sasha answered. And went on. Suddenly he realized that it was the Monk Macarius of Kalyazinsky himself, the patron of these places. “But I didn’t take the blessing...” Sasha wanted to return and take the blessing. But there was no one on the river, only a fresh hole in the ice in this place.

One old nun predicted Sasha's death. “You will die tomorrow,” she told him. The next day was winter Nikola on December 19th. The day passed, but Sasha did not die. But this word spoken by the old nun had a strong effect on Sasha. He began to hasten to do good for God. In the two years that remained to him before his real death, he managed as much as many do not have time in a lifetime. On the Island of Love, which used to be a monastery island, Sasha, having sold his dacha, built a tower with a temple on top, thinking that a monastery could begin with this. In the homeland of St. Macarius, he covered a dilapidated church with a roof and, having restored the walls, made it suitable for worship. But there were no people in this place. Sasha built a house next to this church and settled the nuns there. Now the temple is functioning, the Divine Liturgy is regularly celebrated in it. In the city of Kalyazin itself, Sasha began the restoration of the Ascension Church, because Vladyka Victor said that he would return the holy relics of St. Macarius to the city of Kalyazin if the large city church, the Ascension Cathedral, was restored from ruins. Sasha threw all his strength into the restoration of this cathedral. But he helped to complete our church and cover it with the roof of the first of all the churches he built.

Sasha really died on the day of December 19, but two years after it was predicted to him. People like Sasha are very rare. He not only lived, he burned. "Hurry to do good," as Dr. Haas said.

Sasha organized our older boys, taught them how to skin logs, chop into a cup, make dowels, showed them the basic carpentry techniques. Under his influence, the guys chose construction specialties for further study.

Dome

If we were able to fold the finished log cabin of the church ourselves with the help of the villagers and summer residents under the guidance of grandfather Tuman, Sasha Kapitonov and his team helped us to make the gables and the roof, then we ourselves could not make the dome. This work was beyond the power of Kalyazinsky carpenters, even such outstanding ones as Sasha Kapitonov. And then restorers from the Moscow Carpentry and Restoration School No. 88 (now it is Construction College No. 26) came to our aid. For some of our pupils, this school became their alma mater , where they, having acquired their first specialty, received a ticket to an independent life. These are Alyosha Falin, Vanya Dodonov, Alyosha Sholin. Alyosha Falin entered this school the year we started building the church. When it was necessary to install the dome, he was already finishing his second course. At this time, the school experienced its heyday. The restoration department was headed by two Dmitrys - Dmitry Vladimirovich Sokolov and Dmitry Valeryevich Tuzov. A group of enthusiasts gathered around them - teachers who loved and studied Russian wooden architecture, captivating their students with this love for Russian antiquity - boys, among whom were later our pupils. We turned to them for help, and during the winter the students of this department, among whom were our pupils, completed the dome. The beginning of the summer was dry and therefore we were able to deliver the dome to our village without any problems. They could not send experienced craftsmen from the school to install the dome, because everyone went on an expedition to the north to restore dying churches in Karelia, and two young “masters” and ours came to us - Alyosha, who passed the exam for the second year and Vanya who studied for only one year. "Masters" lived in our shelter, ate with us, communicated with our guys not as hired workers, but "on an equal footing", like comrades. Only the “partnership” was very strange. The "masters" introduced themselves as Sergei Markovich and Theodosius, and I wouldn't give them forty years for two. They were helped, as I said, by our Alyosha and Vanya, who were even younger.

Sergei Markovich was a good carpenter and even taught at the school, which he recently graduated from, and Theodosius was a student in adult carpentry courses created at this school. But only Sergei Markovich gave the impression of not only a non-church, but also a person completely far from faith, while Theodosius, on the contrary, was a believer, but only belonged to the sect of the priestless. He dreamed of leaving for Siberia, gathering a community of followers for himself, and for this he went to study carpentry. When he saw that a small Orthodox community was gathering here around the temple, built on an empty site, he said understandingly: “You have already succeeded a lot.”

Theodosius, following the “best traditions” of the Bespopovites, took his bowl and mug with him so that he would not eat from the same dishes with the “heretics-Nikonians”, and forgot the spoon at home. And immediately began to ask for a new spoon, which "no one has ever eaten." We gave him such a spoon, and he did not disdain the food prepared in our "Nikonian" shelter. He did not eat meat at all, imposing a strict fast on himself.

But one day a rather curious incident happened. The kitchen attendant prepared a large pot of pasta for dinner ahead of the appointed time and went off somewhere, because there was still more than an hour before dinner. And then Theodosius came into the kitchen. He and Sergei Markovich worked all day on the roof of the church and, no doubt, tired and hungry. The hungry Theodosius saw a pot of pasta, took out his bowl and spoon, which he always carried with him so that the “Nikonians” could not touch his dishes, and, while no one was in the kitchen, ate half of the pasta pot, which was cooked for everyone . When the duty officer came and discovered this, he was very indignant and told about this incident at dinner. I had to explain to Theodosius that, despite all the respect for his post, it was impossible to do so. He understood, repented, and imposed a punishment on himself - “penance”. He didn't eat the whole next day. After that, especially for Theodosius, they began to prepare more side dishes and give him a personal loaf of bread.

Sergei Markovich had a different feature. He was very sociable, especially with females, and we had several teenage girls in the orphanage at that time. After work, Markovich took off his shirt and walked half-naked to the girls, listening to their laughter and squealing in response to his flirtatious remarks. In this case, the conversation had to be held not with him, but with our girls. I strictly forbade them to answer any word, no matter what Sergey Markovich said. Deathly silence was the answer to all his antics. He didn't last even one day. He came to me and said: “You clipped my wings!”. But he put on a shirt and began to behave more modestly. The girls didn't say a word to him until he left. It left him with a shock. He told me later that no one had ever "behaved so cruelly" with him.

But they worked diligently and were able to install the dome. But only the cross on the dome stood crooked. Sergei Markovich and Theodosius assured me that it was straightforward, and that all wooden buildings were "playing", but I still had to call their carpenter's school boss from Moscow. He looked, and, with the help of simple tricks, moved the central log a little and straightened the cross. Now he really stood up straight. It took a real master only half an hour.

In conclusion of the story about the dome, it must be said that the money for its manufacture was given by a person who did not know anything about our temple before. He is an athlete-climber, a friend of our friend Andrey Klochkov. Andrei and my brother Yura once visited him. The conversation turned to the temple and the dome. Eugene, without hesitation, said that he also wanted to take part and gave the guys the entire amount for manufacturing and installation. And he saw this dome ten years later, when he himself came to visit Andrei and Yura.

Father Leonid

Father Leonid unexpectedly arrived. In an old UAZ, in a darned old cassock... He immediately went to the church, which still had no windows, no doors, no floor, no ceiling, only walls and a roof. Our boys were sitting on the scaffolding and with axes they chopped off the moss sticking out in tufts between the logs. Sasha Kapitonov taught us this.

The rumor that Father had come to us immediately spread throughout the village and several families with children came to us at once. All of our guys got together. Father stood among the children, asked everyone about something, told something, and then took out a bag of sweets and treated everyone. Upon learning that Lena was pregnant, had difficulty moving around and could not get to the functioning church on her own, Father promised to come the next day and give her communion.

The next day, early in the morning, a tractor with a cart arrived to us, loaded to the top with boards and building materials necessary for us. The tractor driver unloaded and said: "From Father Leonid." Soon Father Leonid's UAZ drove up and Batiushka began to unload cement in bags from there. Having unloaded the cement, he took out two cans of milk and a bucket of fresh home-made cottage cheese and gave it all to us. Then he went to give communion to my Lena.

While he was confessing and giving communion to Lena, we prepared for him two hens and a big pike, which our guys recently caught in the Volga, as a gift. The father was delighted with the gifts.

“Is this,” he says, “mine?”

- Yes, father, yours.

Can I do what I want with it?

- Yes, father.

- Then I bless all this to you at the table.

Communication with Father Leonid always leaves a lasting impression of joy and light. We have been friends with Batiushka for more than ten years. When something intractable happens in our shelter, I always send to Batiushka for advice and blessing. Batiushka does not like to give direct advice, he always prays that the Lord would grant wisdom to those who ask him about something, but sometimes he answers difficult questions very simply and clearly, as if feeling the will of God about the person who asks him. People from all over Russia come to him for advice and blessings. Father Leonid often comes to our shelter and serves in our church. Father blessed in our shelter to restore ancient tradition- a daily rite of forgiveness. Now, every day after the evening prayer, everyone from the youngest to the oldest ask each other for forgiveness, as in Forgiveness Sunday before Lent.

This wonderful custom has greatly helped us in the upbringing of children. Quarrels and grievances, which often occur in any children's team, began to happen less often and quickly got rid of, because the offender always had to ask for forgiveness. Father Leonid told us that it would be good if this custom existed not only in our shelter, but in general in every family. Previously, in ancient times, this custom was everywhere, not only in families, but in all Christian communities, in monasteries, and even among subordinates and superiors.

bear

Every Russian village has its own holy fool. Our holy fool was Mikhail Ivanovich Nechaev. Everyone called him just Uncle Misha or Mishka. He had "woe from the mind." Being by nature a smart man, and also well-read (he was a librarian on the collective farm for some time), Uncle Misha carried through his whole life a thirst for unsatisfied justice. And since he was a kind and active person, his actions, dictated by a thirst for justice and similar to fighting windmills, were always strange, funny and sad at the same time.

Uncle Misha did not go to church with us. But when Vladyka Victor sailed on a ship to perform the first divine service in our church, Mishka was the first to run out to meet him, on the pier, but for some reason not in shoes and not barefoot, but ... in socks. Probably, when he heard that the ship with Vladyka was already approaching, he ran "in what he was."

Before his death, Mishka still went to the church several times. He drinks for courage, enters, stands at the door, lights a candle and cries, and then quietly leaves. Everlasting memory.

Oleg

The story of Oleg is the story of a man who has gone through a transformation. Oleg moved from the city to live in the country shortly before we met. When we first met, Oleg drank heavily, to the point that he could, having come to visit, drink perfume on a shelf in front of the washstand mirror. His mother had a cow, and when Oleg drove or drove the cow into the barn, he accompanied it with such a multi-story mat that even the cow's ears withered. He sincerely said that "she (the cow) does not understand other words." Several times Oleg got so drunk that he almost died. He was previously married, but the family fell apart because of vodka.

When the guys and I, under the guidance of grandfather Tuman, began to build a church, Oleg was the first to help. In the first year, we were only able to assemble a log house on the foundation “on our own”. But in fact, the forces were not their own.

It was Oleg who gathered all the men from our village and together we rolled up eleven-meter logs. Throughout the winter, the log cabin of the church stood without a roof. At Christmas, Oleg climbed into the log house of the future church at night, took out a paraffin candle and stood there until the candle burned to the end. He did the same for Easter. And with him began misfortune. First, the horse, which also “did not understand other words,” broke his leg. Oleg walked on crutches for six months, and as soon as he recovered, he broke the same leg again when he felled a birch for firewood. The tree trunk, falling, “played” and Oleg spent another six months on crutches. After the second fracture, he stopped drinking. All at once and all.

Sashka Andreev lives next door to Oleg. Sashka sat seven times and, returning after the seventh walk, settled in the village. Once, late in the autumn, Sashka drank himself to the point of delirium tremens and began to run unconscious through the forest. Oleg ran after him, caught, tied and sent the clinic. Sasha finished. And with vodka and with theft. Now taxis on UAZ to our village in any off-road.

Oleg has one distinctive property. No matter what happens, he is the first to run to the rescue. Whether there is a fire, someone's illness, whether someone dies, Oleg will be the first to know and run to help.

I wonder how many modern parishioners donate tithing to the church? Of the parishioners of our church, only one such person is Oleg. If Oleg brought 500 rubles, then he earned five thousand, and if a thousand, then ten thousand. No one else does this - neither the rich, nor the poor, nor the lonely, nor those with many children. I once told him: “Oleg, I will spend your money on a trip, and not on a temple.” And he answers me: “Where you spend it is a matter of your conscience, but I did the business of my conscience - I gave the money to God.”

Oleg has a herd of goats. Oleg brings every tenth liter of goat's milk to the table for the pupils of our shelter. And sometimes it seems to me that there is so much milk that it is not every tenth, but every second liter of all the milk of his goats.

Oleg is a true friend. If something happens, Oleg will come to the rescue first. And on Pokrov this year, he also quit smoking.

Zhorik

We met Georgy on an old half-sunk barge with scrap metal, and this acquaintance became fateful for him and for us. He was a vagabond. Originally from Petrozavodsk. In his family, neither his father nor his mother needed him, and he went to wander. Before meeting us, he lived with some tourists on the banks of the Volga, in a hut or in a tent, helped them in catching fish and picking mushrooms, and for this he was fed and watered. He tried to help everyone and nailed it to one, then to the other. Having got acquainted with us and learned that we had an orphanage, he wanted to join us. At first, he just came to visit us and, together with our guys, did something around the house. Georgy was a talented person, his hands grew from where they should, at school he loved physics and understood a little about electrics. He easily fit into the team of our pupils. And he lived in the forest with tourists. But soon the vacation of these tourists ended, and they left, and Zhorik was left alone. He wanted to move in with us. At first, the principles of our life suited him, he promised not to drink. We took him on a trial basis. George began to help build the church. Repaired the roof, did the electrics. He tried very hard to stay with us. But it would be strange to take an adult man into the family as an orphan. And George and I went for a blessing. First, to Father Leonid from Krasnoe. But Father Leonid did not take this blessing upon himself: “Go to Father Georgy Blinov. He is an old man, my confessor, he is wiser than me, go to him, listen to what he has to say.” We went with Zhorik to Father George.

Father George was very old, and, judging by the photographs on the wall, he was a front-line soldier and an order bearer. We told him about George, how he helped in the church, how he tried to live kindly. Only good things were said about George. Father Georgy listened to us, and, without directly answering our naive question: “Can we take him into our family?”, He began to tell some story about himself, which seemed to be completely unrelated to our arrival. He told how he drank heavily in his youth, and one day, having bought some kind of vodka, either poisoned or charmed, he drank it and began to get very sick, he even thought that he would die. The doctors did not help, and one nun told him when it was already very bad - the whole neck, and then the whole body was covered with abscesses and ulcers and the suffering was unbearable: “It’s good, the disease came out, but if it went inside, I would die and now you'll be fine." Scary tale about poisoned vodka. He also talked about the difficulties in his church, about his health, and then, when he found out that we had an orphanage, he strictly told us: “Do not adopt anyone, only educate them as teachers.” It would seem that this did not concern the question of George, but in fact it very much even concerned both us and George. About George, the elder said: “Let him live with you, but not as a family member, but as a free worker. You help him, he will help you, and I will pray for you. God willing, see you again.” The words of the elder became clear only after a while. The wisdom and perspicacity of Father Georgy were revealed to us already under tragic circumstances.

George lived with us for several months. Everything in the world is getting cold. Georgy's desire to live with us also cooled down. And I really wanted to drink. Once George went to help one of our neighbors, but he stayed with them, then with others. When we met, he always greeted me politely, as if nothing had happened. But more and more he smelled of wine.

And then one morning, an excited neighbor in the village came running to us. In a trembling voice, he said: “Zhorik was killed. He lies behind the ravine. We ran there and saw poor Zhorik. He lay on the grass open eyes. Grass was clutched in his hands, as if he wanted to cling to a blade of grass and stay alive. The blow of the knife pierced the diaphragm, and it was generally not clear how Zhorik got over the ravine with such a wound. His last path was shown by the crushed grass on the slope of the ravine.

The police who arrived did not show any activity in investigating this murder, the case could turn into an unsolved "grouse", and we decided to find out for ourselves what happened to our Zhorik. Those with whom Zhorik drank that evening were silent in fear and claimed that they knew nothing and had not seen anything. We began to ask all the always seeing old women. And one of them said that yesterday she saw a man who had not been in the village for many years, as he was in prison. “Probably, he has already served time or some kind of amnesty ...” This man was from a neighboring village, and the old woman said where to look for him. He came to our village to look for old friends with whom he drank before. Zhorika brought vodka to their company ... Since all the drinking companions were silent, the old woman's story was the only thread that the investigator could cling to. The killer confessed immediately when the police came to him. He thought that his friends "surrendered" him. At large after the amnesty, he stayed only two days, stabbed the first one he came across and sat down again. He did not know how and did not want to live in freedom, and therefore killed.

We took Zhorik's funeral to Father Leonid, and at that very time Father Georgy Blinov, to whom we went with Zhorik, came to visit him. He had never been to Father Leonid before, but then he unexpectedly arrived himself, although he had not gone anywhere for a long time, since he was already very old and ill a lot. So Father George and our Zhorik met again. When Zhorik was buried, Father George said that many sins would be forgiven him for a violent death. Our guys, who together with Zhorik lived for several months and built a church, were all at this funeral service. Father George blessed them all, and told us that God would bless us for these children, and already firmly and joyfully, and not with doubt and severity, as at the first meeting, blessed us to raise orphans. This was his last trip before his death. He died a few days after Zhorik.

The guys and I dug a grave, made a wooden cross for Zhorik and buried him in our village cemetery. Now every day, during the morning rule, we pray for two Georges, for an old man and a wanderer.

Nikolay Portnov

Nicholas suddenly called. Unexpected because I thought he would never call again. Nicholas is a carpenter. He has been helping our shelter for fifteen years in all our construction projects. If you remember how everything was, you can see the traces of his hands in every corner of our large farm. Fifteen years ago, he was an assistant to Sasha Kapitonov, our friend, a carpenter, who managed to build several churches in his bright and short life and become a man - a legend. All the builders of our district and all the parishioners of the Kalyazinsky churches know about Sasha Kapitonov. And Kolya was in Sasha's brigade. Sasha did not allow his workers to swear, did not allow them to work in Orthodox holidays, together with them restored temples and built houses. When Sasha died, everything he did for people remained unfinished. Kolya took over all the “objects”. Even when Kolya worked for Sasha in the brigade, he used to drink. After Sasha's death, having become a foreman, he "sewn up" and quit drinking, but continued to smoke like a locomotive.

The first thing Kolya built for us was the log pediments and the roof of the temple. When the pediments were already exposed, but not fixed, and there was no roof yet, we were witnesses of a real miracle. A hurricane passed right through our village. He broke trees, tore off roofs, even moved one small house to another place. The pediments of the temple were assembled right before the hurricane and did not even have time to fix them with jibs. They could fall not only from a hurricane, but also from a small breeze if it blew right into this log sail. When the wind died down, and we got out of the shelters, the first thing we saw was our loose and undamaged sails - the pediments. Twenty meters from our temple, the wind knocked down a huge poplar tree on the roof of our neighbor, Uncle Misha, on another house near the temple, half the roof was torn off, and the loose pediments remained standing. For everyone, this was a real miracle, and Kolya walked for a long time and wondered aloud. The miracle was so obvious that some began to explain it by the direction of the wind. The wind was said to blow parallel to the gables. But God also commands the winds.

In our church, Kolya's hands made the roof, stairs, an extension - a bell tower, floors, an altar barrier. Together we put up a dome on the St. Nicholas Chapel on the water, Kolya's team assembled the quadruple of the St. Sergius chapel, which we are still building. And he also helped us build workshops, a bathhouse, bedrooms, a concert hall. All our boys learned carpentry from Kolya, helping him in his work, and some of them chose the construction profession as their life's work. And those who could not learn how to cut at home, Kolya and his guys taught caulking, sanding and finishing.

Last year, Kolya fell ill and began to cough badly. Diagnosed with pneumonia, unsuccessfully treated, and it turned out to be cancer. And this terrible disease showed the amazing qualities of Kolya's character.

At first he abandoned all his construction projects and his brigade broke up. They didn’t do the operation because it was useless, but they began to do the hardest chemistry. Kolya did not want to live from chemistry to chemistry without doing anything. He again gathered a brigade and offered to do something for us, as long as there was strength. At the end of the summer, he insulated the top and made a staircase in our dining room. During this work, he constantly drank analgin and baralgin, and when he finished, he immediately left again to do chemotherapy or agree to an operation. He lost a lot of weight and immediately aged. He was in severe pain. I thought he would never come back. And so, he called again and said that he had again assembled a team and wanted to make a gym for the guys.

The ancient saints said that if tomorrow is the end of the world, then still this wheat. And there is also such a film from director Akira Kurosawa - "To Live". The hero of this film, having learned about his fatal illness, decided to build a playground on an abandoned wasteland. So is Kolya. He did not read the Holy Fathers and hardly watched Kurosawa's films. But Kolya's act is in tune with the thoughts of the holy fathers and the idea of ​​the great film director. His call is a testament to a kind and courageous soul. We will build, we will live.

Nikolai died on December 20, the day after the winter Nikola, as if Sasha Kapitonov had given him a hand. After all, the winter day of St. Nicholas is the day of memory of Sasha Kapitonov.

Moiseich

One wanderer without a fixed place of residence came to our shelter under very unusual circumstances. In the autumn I had to go to the Uglich orphanage, and on my way back I sat at the station and waited for the train. A bum sat on a nearby bench and drank beer, eating sausage. He probably mistook me for his beard and the old windbreaker I was wearing.

- "Do you want a beer?" he asked me. I refused and turned the other way. He must have thought I was hungry. "Do you want sausage?" - again asked the annoying bum. I also refused the leftover sausage. But the homeless man did not let up: “You don’t know how to get to Selishchi? And then I have already passed here several times, but I did not find the right station. ” Then I became interested, because Selishchi is our village.

- "What do you need in Selishchi?"

- “Yes, they told me that there is Alexei there, who accepts our people. He has a shelter

- “I myself am from Selishchi, but I don’t know any Alexei”

- “Well, it’s written here ...” - and he shows me a piece of paper with a hand-drawn diagram of how to get from the station to our house.

- "And who drew this piece of paper for you?"

- “One hard worker who worked for someone in those places. We met by chance in the suburbs "

What a hard worker, the bum never said. We fell silent. And the homeless again for his own: “Tell me, at least where you need to get off, at what station? To get into these Settlements. And then I’ll find it myself according to the scheme. ” This bum is seriously going to get to our house. What was to be done? I promised to show him this station. So with this fellow traveler I returned home. On the threshold of our house, the homeless man was surprised to find that the Alexei he was visiting turned out to be his traveling companion. He began to ask to live with us, promised to work at the temple, chop wood, remove snow, and “whatever you want”, if only they would leave him. I told him that it needed a blessing.

He was an artist by profession, and was very happy to learn that we have brushes and paints. But it turned out that he painted very mediocre pictures, and he could not finish a single one. In the parishes, he was taught how to caulk, cook, and wash dishes. We also needed to caulk the church, but none of us knew how. Moiseich zealously set to work. But he worked very slowly and of poor quality, although he managed to show some of the techniques of caulking to our guys, and soon they learned to caulk no worse than him. To Moiseich's credit, it must be said that for our church he cut out and pasted on boards made by our boys paper icons for the iconostasis. These icons stand in our church to this day.

When we put on a puppet show for the kids, he made good scenery and missing puppets, and even played a small role.

In the spring we dug up a garden and instructed Moiseich to plant potatoes. They explained how to plant and left for the May holidays for some kind of excursion. He planted a potato, but for some reason it did not sprout. A month later, already in June, not understanding why the potatoes did not sprout, we decided to see what was wrong with it and unearthed one of the beds. Moiseich tried so hard that he dug the potatoes into the depths of two bayonets of a shovel. Not a single potato could penetrate such a thickness of the earth. Everything had to be planted again in June. And the harvest was not in September, but in October. It's good that the weather allowed.

Moiseich was on duty in the kitchen on an equal footing with all the guys, but every time during his kitchen duty he muttered dejectedly under his breath either a song, or a saying: “Come on, cook. Come on, mine. Come on - cook. Come on, mine." Or he sighed heavily and said: “Well, nothing, nothing.” As if comforting himself.

He lived with us for three years, it seemed that he took root. The guys fell in love with him as a friend, he remembered his old habits of a house person, for example, he began to wash his hands before eating and drink coffee in the morning.

Autumn has come. Birds are drawn to warmer climes. And Moiseich began to show concern. It is clear that he has regained his passion for travel. One day he complained that he had a toothache. He asked for money for treatment, went to the dentist in Uglich, and did not return. Three days later we went to look for him, we were already thinking whether something bad had happened. It wasn't hard to find him. We toured all the dental surgeries in Uglich and described Moiseich's colorful appearance to the doctors. One doctor remembered that three days ago there was such a patient and asked how to get to Nikolskoye, where monk John serves. We knew about Nikolskoe that there, in a village not far from Uglich, an old priest John serves, whom some Uglichans revered as an old man. We went to Nikolskoe. Alive and healthy, Moiseich ended up there and said that he would remain "in the monastery." Well, "to the free - the will."

A little over half a year has passed. On some business matters, we again went in the direction where Nikolskoye was, and decided to visit our old acquaintance. But he was not at the parish, and one of the priests who served with Father John told the following story:

“Moiseich boasted that he was an artist, and he was instructed neither more nor less - to paint the altar of one of the aisles of the temple. The ceiling was difficult to paint, and he did not think of anything better than to stand with his feet on the Holy See. They saw this and they kicked him out with a bang.

A year later, one of the Kalyazinsky priests told us at a meeting that he saw “your artist” and gave him alms when he asked at the temple.

Of the numerous orphanage inmates with whom we had a chance to communicate, immediately after graduating from the orphanage, one sold the apartment that he inherited after the death of his parents for ten thousand. Another boy with a diagnosis of cerebral palsy and schizophrenia, when he was allocated a state-owned apartment out of turn, at the request of high-ranking officials, wrote a written refusal, not wanting to draw up documents. Many other children could not even be put on the waiting list for an apartment, because on paper they were registered in such housing, where it was impossible to live in reality. Who cares about their fate?

First service

By July 1999, the church had walls, a roof and a dome, but in order to serve the first liturgy, much more had to be done.

Girls and women painted the walls with Pinotex. These are Sasha Makeeva, Anya Ratai, Ira Tregubova, Masha Savina, Nastya Pereverzentseva, Katya Koroleva, Masha Lagutina, Olga Vladimirovna Panko. Sasha Kapitonov made jambs for windows and doors.

According to the charter of the Church, the Throne must be set on stone. We decided to make this stone out of concrete. The foundation for the Throne was made by orphans from our family shelter along with children and teenagers from neighboring families with many children. There was no floor in the temple yet, and a whole line of children with pails walked along the plank flooring. Children carried half a bucket of concrete solution to the place of the Altar Stone and poured out the wooden formwork. This stone, almost two meters high, was made entirely by children.

Interestingly, children came to help even from neighboring villages. The village of Malakhovo is located ten kilometers from us. For several days in a row, a mother came from there on foot with her two sons, about twelve and fourteen years old, to help in the work of preparing the temple for the first service.

We ordered the Throne itself in a carpentry workshop, but when it was brought, it turned out that the dimensions of the height and width were mixed up in the workshop, and such a Throne did not fit the size of the already sewn vestments that Nastya Golovina and her mother made in advance. I had to make a new throne according to the size of the finished vestments. It so happened that our Throne was also made by the hands of our pupils - Alyosha and Vanya.

The day of July 16, on which the first service was scheduled, was approaching, and the temple did not even have a floor. And then, seeing the children's enthusiasm, two men came to help us - Misha and Boris. I had never met them before. Boris generally lived on the other side of the Volga and came to our village just to see "what's what", and Misha came to visit Sashka Andreev, whose nephew Gashek helped us at the very beginning of the construction of the church. Misha and Boris worked even at night and the floor had been laid by the beginning of the first service. People were able to enter the temple. When Father Leonid arrived, I told him about Misha and Boris, and he thanked and blessed each of them. The men were happy.

A lot of people gathered for the first service. It was a real long-awaited holiday. Fr. Leonid served as a deacon, Fr. Vyacheslav Smirnov served as a deacon, and our old friend Ilya Krasovitsky regented the choir. Lena could no longer regent - she had to go to the maternity hospital immediately after the service.

Pryluky priests

With the beginning of divine services, construction did not end, but a new era began - the era of the services of Pryluky priests. Father Leonid served the first service in our church, and for other services we began to invite priests from other churches that were not very far from our village. The closest functioning church to us was the Church of the Nativity in Priluki. The village of Priluki is five kilometers away from us, on the other side of the Volga. The only way to get to this church is by boat. The first priest who served in Priluki was Father Boris Starodubov. Father Boris returned home after the army, gathered a meeting of grandmothers, registered a parish and opened a church. He was ordained there to serve as the first priest. We met him when the Orthodox "Kalyazinsky" youth camp arose in the forest on the banks of the Volga. We sailed to the service in Priluki to Father Boris on boats, and he sometimes served in our camp in a camp tent church, consecrated with the blessing His Holiness Patriarch Alexei II in honor of All the Saints who shone in the Russian land. Father Boris blessed his neighbor and friend Dmitry Vasilyevich Tumanov, Tuman's grandfather, as he called himself, to help us in the camp and in the construction of the temple in Selishchi. Father Boris has six children. When I once complained to him that we had no children, and envied him that he had six, he took us to the Uglich orphanage. Since then, more than eighty orphans have passed through our family, and three of our own have been born. Shortly before the construction of our church in Selishchi, Father Boris opened another church not far from Uglich on Divnaya Gora, and he was transferred to serve there.

And in Priluki they appointed Father Sergiy Danilin to serve, who was the first of the Priluki priests to sail to our village by boat and serve in our newly built church. After the transfer of Father Boris to Divnaya Gora, the parishioners of the Pryluksky temple began to go less. Only a few grandmothers came to the service of Father Sergius. There was no one at all to sing, and my mother sang mostly in “reading”. Father Sergiy came to serve in our church with joy - more people came to services compared to Pryluki. Almost all parishioners went to confession and communed at every service. Mostly large families and children from our shelter attended the services. And it turned out that the temple was filled with children. This was in contrast to the services in Priluki. All the priests who came to serve in our church liked to serve in the church, where most of the parishioners are children. Father Sergius the First (Danilin) ​​served with us for three summers, doing about five or six services during the summer period. He was transferred to some rural church near Rostov and we never met again.

In Priluki, Father Sergius the First was replaced by Father Sergius the Second (Kolentsov), a young hieromonk. It was not his mother who helped him at the parish, but his mother. During the years of his ministry, little by little people began to come to the Liturgy in the Pryluky church. Father Sergius II served in our church for seven years. We were friends with him, he often stayed with us for several days. He also loved serving in our church. He consecrated our dwelling, wells, the first chapel built in honor of the New Martyrs and Confessors of Russia. He baptized some of our pupils who wanted to be baptized during their stay at our shelter. Father Sergius II was transferred from Priluki to serve in the Avraamiev convent in the city of Rostov the Great.

The third Priluki priest, who served for several years in our church, was hegumen Nikanor. It turned out that Abbot Nikanor was my old friend Kolya. We met with him in our youth, helping several large families with the blessing of Father Vladimir Vorobyov. He served with us for three years, then left the state, and now he is serving somewhere on the border of the Tver and Smolensk regions.

To the credit of all the priests from Pryluky, it must be said that none of them has ever refused to come and serve in our church, no matter what the weather. For the priests in Priluki had to swim in a motor boat. The boys from our family orphanage learned how to use the old "Neptune - 23", which started "every other time", and how to drive a motor boat. We have introduced strict rules - you can get into the boat only by wearing a life jacket and taking a walkie-talkie with you. We decided to observe these rules not only when we went for the priests, but during any voyage on any boat. And following these rules in difficult times has always helped us out. The usually calm water surface of the Volga, with a northerly or southerly wind, very quickly turned into a “stormy sea” with waves almost as tall as a man. Swimming in a storm along the Volga is always dangerous, and especially when the waves are “with lambs”. If the waves are "with lambs", then no matter how hard you try, you will still sail wet from head to toe. If they went to fetch the priest “with lambs”, then before the service it was necessary to change and dry him.

And one morning, when it was necessary to sail to Priluki for Father Sergius II, fog descended on the Volga. The morning was like in a song - "foggy and gray." There was no wind, the Volga was calm, but the fog was so thick that after a hundred meters you could not see the coastline at all. Arrived an hour before scheduled time. Pryluki was found with difficulty in the fog, and the priest was put into the boat. In the meantime, the fog has intensified. The boat did not come back to our shore at the appointed time of the service. We managed to contact the crew by radio. The guys and the father got lost in the fog - instead of sailing to our shore, they swam along the fairway. Not seeing the shore, they began to change direction. After some time they saw the coastline. There was no village on the shore - only a forest and a field. I had to swim several kilometers near the shore until we saw the first residential building on the shore. They went ashore and asked where they were. It turned out that in the fog they sailed to the other side, to the village of Kadanovo. It's right in front of us, across the Volga, only two kilometers, but swim "blindly". All the people who came to the church at the beginning of the service prayed that the boys and the priest would be able to reach us and not get lost again. We started ringing the bell. The guys swam to the sound that carried through the water for kilometers, and in a few minutes they were at home. The Divine Liturgy took place, but with an hour and a half delay.

Sometimes priests from Rostov, from Kalyazin, from Moscow came to us and served the Divine Liturgy in our church, or concelebrated with the Pryluky priests. Over the years, more than twenty priests and two bishops have served in our church – Metropolitan Viktor of Tver and Kashinsky, and Bishop Panteleimon of Orekhovo-Zuevsky.

In the era of the Priluki priests, the Divine Liturgy was celebrated in our church only in the summer, about once every two weeks, and then only on weekdays, because on holidays the priests served in their churches. And we went to holiday services or to Priluki, or to Kalyazin, or to Uglich, or to Krasnoye to Father Leonid. In winter, no one served in our church, although in anticipation of winter services, we nevertheless built a stove. Winter services began at new era the history of our church. The next story is about this era.

Wooden city or "In the village it was Popovka ..."

In the late eighties and nineties of the last century, when suddenly after the celebration of the Millennium of the Baptism of Rus', the most severe persecution of the Orthodox Church, which had lasted for more than seventy years, ceased, and the Church received freedom and the opportunity to raise children, youth Orthodox summer camps began to be created. One of the first such camps was the camp of the community of the Nikolo-Kuznetsk Church in Moscow, created with the blessing of Father Vladimir Vorobyov. At first, this camp was located near the village of Bogoslovo, not far from the town of Romanov-Borisoglebsk (Tutaev). As more and more children began to come to this camp, there was a need to create another camp, already in a different place. To create this second camp, the Naxi were invited by Alexander Olegovich Makeev to the Kalyazinsky land. We talked about this at the beginning of our story in the chapter “Pioneers”. So there was a "Kalyazinsky orthodox camp» in the forest near the village of Selishchi. In the camp, the guys lived in tents, served in the camping tent church, consecrated in honor of All Saints who shone in the Russian land, and sang songs. One of the favorite songs of the inhabitants of this camp was the song "Falcons soar like eagles!". In this song, the words "Camp - the city of linen" were always sung with special enthusiasm, and the camp itself was called that - the city of linen. Many interesting events took place in the camp, but one of them, as it turned out many years later, was directly related to the “Wooden City”, which arose on an empty field near our village of Selishchi.

One night in the camp, when all the children were already asleep, only three “heads” of the detachments remained by the fire - three friends Katya, Nadia and Masha. Suddenly, behind the forest, in the direction of the river, they saw an ever-increasing fiery glow. “Probably a fire, and our help is needed there!”, the “bosses” decided and, without hesitation, got into the boat and sailed “to a clear fire”. The brave girls, already ready to “enter the burning hut”, got out of the boat to the shore, where the fire was blazing, and were surprised to see that it was not a house in the village that was burning at all, but a haystack in a completely empty field. And not a soul around. There was no one to help, we looked at the burning stack, and swam back to the camp. And none of them could have thought then that God showed them a place where they would live with their families, with husbands and children. At this place, twenty years later, a “wooden city” arose - the village of Nikolskoye, in which Katya, Nadia and Masha and many other inhabitants of that first tent camp began to live with their families.

It happened like this:

Father Vladimir Vorobyov, who blessed the creation of the camp and the construction of our church, came several times to our village. Seeing how the temple was being built, how a small community of large families was being formed at the temple, how our family shelter "Orphan House" was developing, the priest invited Yevgeny Leonidovich to one of the services. It was one of the usual rare services of the "pre-Nikol period" in the history of our church - a full church of children and everyone takes communion. Yevgeny Leonidovich, himself a father of many children, having attended this service, wanted to build a settlement for large Orthodox families in an empty field near our village (on the very one where a haystack once burned). Evgeny Leonidovich belongs to that rare type of people in our time, whose words and ideas do not diverge from deeds. And on an absolutely empty field near our village, a settlement began to be built. Now no one remembers how difficult it was to register the land, build a road, electricity, bring building materials, workers, etc. Hundreds of people were involved in this.

In 2012, the first new settlers - families with many children - took the risk of starting to settle in new, not yet completely completed houses. There were only a few of these families and they did not come for a long time. A year later, more than ten new families began to settle in new houses in Nikolskoye, and some, the most courageous, were able to live here for the whole summer and even planted a garden. Most of these families - the first settlers were the families of the priests of the Nikolo - Kuznetsk Church and the Orthodox St. Tikhon State University. Jokingly, they began to call this village not Nikolskoye, but "the village of Popovka."

This neighborhood changed the life of our church greatly. In the history of our little temple began new era- Nikolskaya. In the Donikol era, services were rarely performed, only six or seven times during the summer, no one served in the winter. Only a few families and orphans came to the temple to serve. With the beginning of the Nikolskaya era, they began to serve often - every Sunday and all Holidays. Before that, we had never served on Sundays and holidays, because all the priests were visitors, and on holidays they served at home. Significantly more people began to come to holiday and Sunday services. In the summer of 2013, at services on Sundays and holidays, there were more than a hundred communicants alone, and more than seventy of them were children. Seeing such an influx of Orthodox, in the “village of Popovka” they decided to build another church, no longer wooden, but stone, and not small, but large - six-altar! - How main cathedral major city. In the summer of 2013, Metropolitan Victor of Tver and Kashin laid the foundation stone for this new cathedral.

And the first winter services were held in our church. Father Ivan Vorobyov, the son of Father Vladimir, has been coming to Nikolskoye to go skiing with the guys for two years in a row during school holidays with his class (he is a class teacher at St. Peter's Gymnasium). And at this time he serves the night Liturgy with the children. And although this service does not coincide in numbers with the Nativity of Christ, but for our church this is a real Christmas Liturgy, the only one of the year.

History pages

The history of our church is part of thousand years of history our country. In this story, fifteen years is a small drop in a vast ocean. But even a drop, having dissolved in the ocean, feels itself to be a part of it. The piece of Russian land where our temple stands also has an ancient history. It is difficult and perhaps not even always possible to see this history through the years and centuries, but some pages of this history emerge quite clearly for us.

The place of death of the Holy Prince Vasilko of Rostov.

The first page of history is from the time of the Tatar-Mongol invasion.

Once, even before the construction of our temple, there was a service in the camp, in the Camping Temple. An old priest from Spassky, Father Nikolai Sergienko, came to serve with his son, priest Vasily. It rained during the service. By the end of the liturgy, the rain turned into a continuous downpour, "like from a bucket." It poured so that it was not audible exclamations of the priest from the altar. From the roof - a canopy of a tent temple, water poured like a wall. The liturgy ended, but the downpour did not let up. Stepping out from under the awning meant getting wet to the skin in a minute. We had to wait for the end of the storm. One of the guys had a book of the lives of the saints - the Tver patericon. To pass the time, we decided to read the lives aloud. The first life was about Prince Vasilka of Rostov, the hero of the battle on the City River, who was captured by the Tatars and refused to fight against the Russians in the Tatar army and accept the Tatar faith, and for this he was brutally killed.

The chronicle conveyed to us the image of the young prince: "Handsome in face, with bright and formidable eyes, Vasilko was brave, kind in heart and affectionate with the boyars." He was 28 years old. In Rostov, he left a wife and two sons - Boris and Gleb. The Tatars were so impressed by his courage that they did not kill the prince, but took him prisoner and tried for a long time to persuade him to go over to their side. But Vasilko was adamant. As a result, the enraged Tatars brutally executed the young prince, and the body was thrown into the forest, as chronicles indicate, 25 miles from Kashin.

"But isn't this our place?" one of the guys exclaimed, “Look, everything fits together. The Tatars walked along the roads along the rivers. If you draw a circle with a radius of twenty-five miles from Kashin, then it will intersect with the Volga approximately here. And our camp is located in the place where the village of Vasilevo used to be. Was it not in honor of Prince Vasilko that she was named so?

While we were reading, the rain stopped and the sun came out. We did not have time to read more than one life from this book.

Since then, we have been convinced that the prince, who died heroically, did not renounce the Orthodox faith under the threat of death and did not become a traitor to the Motherland, died in our area. Exactly where, no one knows for sure. But we can honor him as our prince - a hero who accomplished his feat in our places.

So far, we have not built either a chapel or a monument in honor of Prince Vasilko. But if we remember the feat of the prince and consider him our close saint who died in our area, then over time there will be a monument and a special prayer commemoration in a church or chapel.

Road St. Sergius.

The second page of the history of our place is connected with the name of St. Sergius of Radonezh. Everyone who travels from Moscow to our village passes the Holy Trinity Sergius Lavra. From us to the Lavra, a little more than a hundred kilometers - this is about three days' journey for a hiker. As you know, St. Sergius did not ride a horse, but walked a lot. He could be in our area, and here's why.

Even before the construction of the dam in Uglich, when there was not yet a huge lake - a reservoir that flooded almost the entire city of Kalyazin and many villages and villages, two roads went through our village. One walked along our bank towards Uglich. And from us this road went through the village of Krasnoye, where there is a stone church in honor of St. Sergius. Father Viktor Badenkov serves in this church. According to legend, this temple stands on the site of a small wooden church, which was built by St. Sergius himself. Father Victor told this story to our priests who visited him.

If St. Sergius went from his Trinity monastery to build this church, then he most likely walked along the road through our village, and not through the forests, which in those days were almost impassable. One way or another, but the paths of the monk could pass through our village.

And the second road went to the other side of the Volga to the village of Priluki, through the ford. In Priluki on the banks of the Volga stands the Church of the Nativity. Before the revolution, this village was a farmstead of the Holy Trinity Sergius Lavra. Is it because this place is also associated with St. Sergius himself? If the monk could found a church in Krasnoye, then nothing prevented him from going through our village on a different road to Priluki. Perhaps this place is also connected with his activities, otherwise how to explain the fact that this particular village until the beginning of the twentieth century was the farmstead of the Lavra, and not some other. It is not for nothing that the first priests who served in our small temple in the first years of its existence bore the name of Sergius of Radonezh - Fathers Sergius the First and Sergius the Second.

Therefore, we decided to build one of the chapels at our church in honor of our beloved saint - Sergius of Radonezh.

bells

The story of our bells begins with a shipwreck. When our church was still being built, a barge carrying scrap metal sank near our village. Apparently it was such an old galosh that it had to be sent for melting down along with its cargo. The hull began to leak, the hold began to fill with water and the towing boat barely managed to drag it to the shallows near the shore, where the barge sank, but not completely. The old ship was firmly aground, the water level was up to the deck, and the mountain of scrap metal on this deck towered above the surface of the water. The barge sank so close to the shore that only the lazy did not visit it. Gradually, the economy of local residents began to grow with iron from the barge. In a village economy, every piece of iron can be useful for anything. And there were rumors that one found an old anvil there, another a barrel for watering the garden, the third fittings for concrete work. The mountain of scrap metal gradually decreased. We also decided to take a boat to this barge. Among the rusty pieces of iron it was difficult to find anything useful in the household after the invasion of local residents. The stern of the barge went completely under the water and under the water the boys saw the old cartridge cases from the engines. They began to indulge and knock with pieces of iron on these shells. And suddenly it turned out that some cartridges sound in musical intervals - some in a second, others in a third, and even found sounding in a quart. By hanging these shells on a string, one could play a simple melody. "Let's make bells out of them!" Alyosha suggested. The idea was immediately heard, but it was difficult to get the necessary shells from under the water. It was necessary to dive, raise them to the surface, and determine by the sound whether they fit or not. They even wanted to abandon this idea, but suddenly help appeared. At the side of the barge, the head of a young guy popped up and said: “Let me help you!”. So we met Zhorik. Zhorik deftly dived for the shells, brought them up, and we determined by the sound whether they were suitable or not for the belfry. As a result, we took from this barge both ringing blanks and Zhorik himself, who became friends with our guys and began to visit us often.

We made our first belfry from these blanks and several Valdai bells from our home collection. And they began to call every day before morning and evening prayers, and if a priest came, then before the Divine Liturgy. Separately from the belfry, they also hung a blank, which they beat, calling everyone for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

The ringing from these blanks would have seemed fine to us if there was nothing to compare with. And we had records with records of the Rostov chimes and the chimes of the Trinity-Sergius Lavra. And after comparison, it began to seem that our melodic blanks rattle like empty tin cans. They began to dream and pray for real bells.

First we decided to look for them at the bottom of the Volga. There is a legend in our village that when the old church was blown up in 1939, the locals hid the bells at the bottom of the Volga. We searched everywhere. And they dived, and threw a net, and sailed many times with an iron cat at the end of the rope, but they did not find the bells. The Volga did not reveal its secrets. And God sent us the bells in a very different way.

In autumn we came to Moscow for a while. And suddenly in the afternoon - a call. Lena took the phone. “Is this a family shelter Orphans House? We would like to help you. What do you need first? Lena was not at a loss, and instead of listing endless household needs, she says: “The bells. We have been dreaming of a belfry for a long time, but we are ringing blanks. Bells are a very important pedagogical tool in the upbringing of orphans.” The man on the other end of the wire asked Lena a little more about our life, and, without naming himself, said goodbye and hung up, promising nothing.

The next day, a Mercedes drove up to the entrance of our house and the driver and an assistant unloaded five bells from it - a real belfry. Silently, and without any questions, they picked up and carried these bells to our apartment. To all our questions they answered one thing: "It is not ordered to speak." After some time, the mysterious stranger rang again, saying that this belfry was picked up by the main bell ringer of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, and this time he promised that another bell, the largest, would be later, when it was cast and brought to Moscow. I said goodbye, and again without naming myself, hung up.

A month later - a call: “You are called from the Moscow City Hall. You must urgently pick up the bell. Come." Arriving at the indicated address, we saw a bell, along the edge of which an inscription was made in gold script: “This bell was cast to the church of St. Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow from the Fomochkin family.” I began to ask: "And who is Fomochkin?". "How? You don't know who Fomochkin is? This is the owner of the city hall building. Anatoly Nikolaevich is the head of all technical services of this building. Everyone here knows him." Since I was already inside this building, which looked like an open book from the outside, having loaded the bell into the car, I did not leave, but went to look for our unknown benefactor in order to thank him for such a priceless gift for us. And found. Anatoly Nikolaevich talked to me very cordially and kindly and said that he could do something else for us that was necessary. He really helped us do another very important thing - to publish a collection of our favorite songs, but that's another story.

We brought the bells to our village, and Kolya the carpenter began to urgently make a belfry in the graveyard near the church.

But this is not the end of our bell story. My older brother Seryozha wanted to include our last name in the bell history of our church. For two years he raised money for two more bells for our church, encouraging all the brothers in our family to participate in this. When the necessary funds were collected, we ordered these bells from the Anisimov bell foundry in the city of Voronezh. The bells were ready for the patronal feast of our church. But it was very difficult to deliver them to the distant village of Selishchi in the Tver region. Our old friends from the Voronezh Mechanical Plant named after V.I. Khrunichev. The management of this plant has been helping our shelter with food and honey for several years. And then it matched. When the bells were already ready, and we did not know how to bring them from Voronezh, we received a call from the factory and were told that they would be able to bring food again. We asked to take the bells too. Everything worked out and the bells were put in a car that was carrying food to us. But no good deed is without temptation. So it was this time.

On the day when the bell was supposed to be brought to us, Vladyka Panteleimon, Bishop of Orekhovo-Zuevsky, unexpectedly came to us. We already wanted to greet Vladyka with the ringing of new bells. The driver called and promised to come early in the morning. The service began and suddenly a call: “We drove up to the church, but the church is closed, there is no one. How to be? And in our church, the service is in full swing, the temple is full of people, the doors and windows are open, the choir is heard throughout the district. "Don't hang up," I say, "I'll go out to see you now and see your car." I go out - no one. I ask: “Where are you?” - “Yes, here, I am standing in front of the temple, the doors are closed, but the watchman is coming ...”. I asked in bewilderment to give the tube to this watchman. “Hello, are you the guardian of the temple? Where and what kind? - "As where? In the village of Selishchi, Selizharovsky district, Tver region. This is three hundred kilometers from our village Selishchi, Kalyazinsky district. The other end of a huge area, and the name of the village is the same. It’s good that we didn’t have time to unload ... But everything worked out, the driver found our village on the map, lamented, and in the evening drove to us.

Now we have a real belfry of eight bells. The only pity is that Vladyka did not hear our new ringing. But maybe he will come someday, and then we'll hit "breaking bad".

When the new bells were brought in, we organized a bell-ringing festival. Anyone, like on Easter, could call at least the whole day. They decided to make this holiday every year and call it the birthday of the bell ringers.

Myrrh-streaming icons

Every family and every temple has its own especially revered shrines. These shrines are passed down from generation to generation, overgrown with legends, some are glorified by miracles by which the Lord strengthens our faith, showing that He is near. There are such shrines in our church, which is only fifteen years old.

When we were preparing for the first service and wanted to decorate our church, we began to collect reproductions of icons. Paper icons for the iconostasis were presented to us by the director of an Orthodox bookstore, and we collected icons of saints and holidays from old patriarchal calendars, postcards and magazines. Among these reproductions, we found an icon of St. Philip, Metropolitan of Moscow, after whom our church is named, and inserted it into a home-made frame where a child's drawing used to be. Thus, at the first service, which was celebrated on the sixteenth of July, on the day of memory of St. Philip, his icon appeared. After the service, this reproduction, glass and frame were covered with drops that appeared from nowhere, which had a very subtle and pleasant smell. We did not notice this immediately, since no one expected that this was possible, and no one noticed how these fragrant drops were formed. The next day, the fragrance began to disappear and no new drops appeared. Everyone saw, was surprised and was silent. Curiosity forced the children to approach the icon all the time and look out for miraculous drops. Batiushka mixed these drops with lamp oil and anointed everyone.

A year has passed. Again on the same day there was a service - the Patronal Feast of our church. On the lectern lay another, also a paper clipping from the calendar with the image of St. Philip, and that first icon was installed in the iconostasis, to the right of the image of the Savior. And again, everyone noticed that this new reproduction was also covered with droplets, but now these droplets did not have that delicate aroma that emanated from that first icon last year.

Fifteen years have passed since then. Every year in the summer in our temple once myrrh-tochila some kind of icon. But now it is no longer the sixteenth of July, but on any other day, and no one knew which icon and on what day would be covered with drops of peace. And whether this miracle would happen again, no one knew either.

Once, during the reading of the Six Psalms, an unconsecrated reproduction of the Monk Ambrose of Optina wept, enclosed in an ordinary file and placed on a lectern. At that moment, I was reading the Six Psalms in front of the lectern, and suddenly I saw a tear flow from the eye of the icon. After the service, this weeping icon was photographed and even filmed by our parishioners. And once the icon began to stream myrrh not in the temple, but in the hospital. Our boy Tisha fell off the church porch during a service and broke the radius in his left hand. He was rushed to the hospital. He managed to grab a small icon with his healthy hand Reverend Seraphim Sarovsky. The next morning, this icon in the hospital was covered with large oily drops. The fracture healed without a trace and Tisha now plays the violin with this hand.

For our small church, this wonderful myrrh-streaming is to some extent similar to the descent of the Holy Fire. We do not know with which icon this miracle will happen, on what day, and whether it will ever happen again. But so far it has happened every year.

Last year, a cardboard icon of the Kazanskaya Mother of God, which Father Leonid Beresnev, confessor of the Tver diocese, gave to our church, and also only one day - the twenty-first of July. Father Vladimir Vorobyov, rector of PSTGU, who served in our church that day, was a witness to this.

None of us comment on this miracle. Not "from what", not "for what", not "why". It's just that the Lord is near, and everyone can see it.

Will this miracle ever happen again? But what we have witnessed is the history of our temple. And myrrh-streaming icons are our shrines.

Crimean icon

The events that took place in the Crimea and Ukraine united our entire country in an effort to help people who find themselves in trouble and under the threat of terror, fascist nationalists who feel their impunity. Everything happened rapidly, and every next day we expected news even worse than today's and yesterday's. Crimea rebelled against the self-proclaimed and corrupt rulers of Ukraine. People were ready to fight to the death. The bandits were ready to kill. It seemed that the war in the Crimea was inevitable. We watched all the news and wanted to help the Crimeans in any way. But how can a small orphanage in central Russia help those who every day expect an attack thousands of kilometers away from us?

Shortly before all these events, we read a book about the icons of the Mother of God. About how Russian people at critical moments in their history turned to the Queen of Heaven with a request for intercession and were always heard. So it was during the invasions of khans, Poles, French, German fascists. Ours went in procession with the Vladimir icon from Vladimir to Moscow, with the Kazan icon they went into battle with the Poles, defeated the French with Smolensk icon, with the Tikhvin Icon of the Mother of God, they flew around Moscow on an airplane when the Nazis were standing near Moscow.

The day of the Crimean referendum was approaching, and we decided to send our icon of the Mother of God - Protection of the Waters to Crimea. We planned to paint such an icon for our chapel built on the water in the middle of the Volga River two years ago, and only in the summer Tanya Meretskova finished painting this icon, and Ilya Meretskov brought this icon to our church. On this icon, the Mother of God does not stand on the clouds, but on the water and holds Her Cover over everyone who is surrounded by water, who sails on a ship or boat, or lives on the banks of a river or sea. Our temple and our House of Orphans are located on the very bank of the Volga, next to a huge water element, which is often unpredictable and dangerous, and therefore we wanted to paint such an icon.

The icon, painted by Tanya, was painted specifically for the chapel on the water and was quite large, so that only two people could lift it. It was not possible to send such a large icon to the Crimea. Then we decided to urgently paint a new icon of this size, which you can take with you on the plane. There were only a few days left before the referendum. It was necessary to be on time. Ira Volkonskaya agreed to paint a new icon of the Intercession on the Waters. Irina and I have been friends for many years. When she found out that our family organized the Orphanage, after a while Irina also adopted a boy from the orphanage with cerebral palsy and became an employee of our shelter. Ira is an icon painter. She had already painted icons for our church, and when we urgently needed an icon for the Crimea, we asked Ira to paint it. She abandoned all her affairs and in one night wrote the Veil on the waters for the Crimea. But how to deliver this icon to the Crimea, and be in time before the referendum?

We called Father Alexander Saltykov, the dean of the icon-painting faculty of the Orthodox St. Tikhon State University, and talked about our icon for the Crimea, and asked, if possible, to help send this icon to the Crimea. At first they thought to send the icon to Father Valery Boyarintsev, an old friend of Father Alexander, who serves in the Crimea. But it turned out that no one could go to Father Valery. Then father Alexander began to call all his acquaintances who could help in this matter. It became known that father Vitaly Sergienko was going to fly to Crimea on the eve of the referendum. But father Alexander could not get through to him - father Vitaly's phone was switched off. And suddenly, Father Vitaly called Father Alexander himself and said that in an hour he was flying to Simferopol from Sheremetyevo and was ready to take the icon and give it to the confessor of the Black Sea Fleet, Father Dmitry Bondarenko. If, of course, they manage to transfer this icon to him. Father Alexander immediately called me back. I was in Moscow, I had the icon I had just painted with me, and the minute Father Alexander called me and gave Father Vitaly's phone number, I ran to the meeting, as it was almost impossible to make it in time. I ran all the way, up the escalator, up at the crossings, jumped into the closing doors of the carriages with a run, and half a minute before the express was sent to Sheremetyevo, I managed to give the icon to Father Vitaly. He took her to the Crimea.

What I managed to do was a small miracle, since I could not make it to the express train at Sheremetyevo, or rather, I did not believe that I would make it, but ran at random to fulfill my duty. If Father Alexander called me half a minute later, I would not have had time.

A few days later, a real great miracle happened - Crimea was reunited with Russia without a single shot being fired.

The further fate of this icon is not known to me.

Memory of heroes, known and unknown

One of the chapels built next to our church is dedicated to the memory of the New Martyrs and Confessors of Russia. Our young builders built it in five days - they were in a hurry for the patronal feast. The memory of the past is one of the most important components of our educational work. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. It certainly is. And about orphans, some people think that the children of alcoholics, criminals, or simply, for some reason, early deceased parents, do not deserve a better fate than their parents. Refer to the power of genetic predisposition. Well, how do they know about the genetic predisposition? Maybe the father of this boy was an alcoholic or a thief, and his grandfather or great-grandfather were saints or heroes who laid down their lives for faith and the fatherland. How can we know? A holy great-grandfather can beg God for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If only they remembered the feat of their grandfathers and great-grandfathers. In the last century in the history of our people there were two great sacrificial deeds. As they said - "mass" feat. This is the feat of the New Martyrs, who did not betray their faith and the Church in the face of torment and death, and the military feat of many soldiers who gave their lives and health for our Motherland, for its freedom from fascism. These two greatest feats determined future destiny Russia, our destiny.

“There is no such family in Russia where its hero would not be remembered ...” - is sung in the song. These heroes are known and unknown to us. Among them, probably, there are also the ancestors of our pupils. We cannot know this for certain - with the mind, but we can find out by faith and hope. This year, the guys and I want to install two memorial plaques next to the chapel of the Holy New Martyrs and Confessors of Russia. One with the names of those innocently repressed during the years of persecution of the Church, and the other with the names of participants in the Great Patriotic War. Our guys may not know the names of their ancestors, but they can hope that there were unknown heroes among them. On the other hand, we can preserve the memory of those ascetics whose names are remembered by their relatives who now live in our district.

During the war years, memorial plaques were placed in honor of those who died at the front, in cemeteries near hospitals, where the wounded at the front died or on mass graves. After the war, monuments were erected to those who did not return from the war. In our time, it is necessary to honor the memory of all those who innocently suffered for their faith and fidelity to their calling, given by God, and all those who defended the Motherland in a difficult time.

We decided to interview all the people living in the area and find out the names of their heroic ancestors. Such work can once again stir up a wave people's memory and to attract people to unite, at least for the joint church commemoration of their ancestors - heroes. Unknown grandfathers and great-grandfathers of our pupils will undoubtedly be happy about this. We believe that the ancestors of our guys were also heroes. This faith can play a decisive role in the fate of our orphans.

Meeting of the shrine

FOREWORD

On June 8, on the day of commemoration of the uncovering of the relics of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky, Metropolitan Victor celebrated the Divine Liturgy and on the eve of the All-Night Vigil in the White Trinity Cathedral in Tver, where the relics of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky are kept.

Here is how one of the pilgrims described this event in her diary: “The White Trinity Cathedral returned from the Cathedral, where the relics of St. Macarius now reside. 9 priests. Near the relics of the monk and the icon, placed in the center of the temple closer to the salt, - luxurious bouquets of roses. Happy for Kalyazin - such a big holiday!"

OFFICIAL SITE OF THE VLADIMIR CHURCH OF THE TVER DIOCESE 06/09/2012. posted a message
"Tver sees off the Reverend Macarius of Kalyazinsky".

Tomorrow Tver will solemnly escort the relics of St. Macarius, hegumen of Kalyazinsky, a miracle worker, to the place of his monastic labors in Kalyazin.

Breaking up is not always easy. But let us rejoice for the inhabitants of a small regional town on the Volga, who acquire such a shrine, for all who fervently prayed for the return of St. Macarius, who labored for this, who would come to meet him, and who would come to see him off.

The church has established the green color of liturgical vestments on the feasts of the venerable fathers. The clergy will wear green robes. And the earth has already been embellished - fresh greenery on the trees, grass underfoot.

By the visible deeds and prayerful labors of the dean of the Kimrsky District, Archpriest Evgeny Morkovin and the rector of the Vvedensky Church in the city of Kalyazin, Archpriest Leonid Beresnev, and the labors of the townspeople, the time of the return of the Kalyazinsky abbot was brought nearer.

From the official website of the Tver Metropolis:

On June 10, as part of the XIV Volga Cross Procession, at the end of the Divine Liturgy, which was led by Metropolitan of Tver and Kashinsky Victor in the Tver Cathedral "White Trinity", an important event took place in the life of the Tver diocese - from here began the transfer of the relics of St. Macarius Kalyazinsky from the city of Tver to their homeland in Kalyazin, to the Church of the Ascension of the Lord.

Many residents of the city of Tver came to bow to the Monk Macarius on this day and to conduct a shrine with holy relics along the central streets of the city to the pier of the River Station. The Volga procession with the relics of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky and the Nizhny Novgorod shrine - an ark with a particle of the relics of St. Seraphim of Sarov - went down the Volga along the established route.

GREAT EVENT IN KALYAZIN

What happened exceeded all expectations! This is probably a long-awaited good miracle, which our long-suffering Kalyazin land deserves. The venerable patron of these places, the miracle worker Macarius returned to our homeland with his incorruptible relics!

Since 1988, they have been in the White Trinity Cathedral in Tver, and this year (which is the Year of History for the whole country), by decision of the Metropolitan of Tver and Kashinsky Viktor, they were handed over to us at the request of believers and the public of Kalyazin. Not just an event, but a great rarity, a great joy!

June 14 early morning hour believers gathered in the village of Nikitskoye to meet the pilgrims procession during his traditional stop in this cozy corner on the banks of the Volga, which every year gains more and more spiritual power. Openwork bell ringing met guests from the shore who had come a long way from the source of the Volga. Shrines - particles of the relics and icons of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky and Seraphim of Sarov were installed in front of the chapel of the icon of the Kazan Mother of God, and all those present were able to bow to them during the prayer service. Among those meeting the head of the district K.G. Ilyin with his colleagues, the head of the administration of the Alferovsky rural settlement O.R. Kudryashova, villagers, honorary citizens of the region, workers in various fields and children.

By an unusually important coincidence, it was on this day that the rector of the Church of the Ascension, where the relics of Macarius were transferred, Archpriest Leonid Beresnev, turned 75 years old. This man, an honorary resident of the district, put so much of his work to make this event happen that such a gift became really deserved and the most expensive for him. Here, at the chapel, he was congratulated by the participants of the procession, the people of Kalyazin.

According to tradition, the procession on the water continued on its way, the next stop of which was the birthplace of St. Macarius - the village of Kozhino, in the Kashinsky district.

Yaroslav Leontiev, headman of the Kashinsky-Kalyazinsky community, coordinator of the first Makariev readings in Kalyazin, spoke about how they met the shrine and guests:

In the village of Kozhino, pilgrims were met by residents of Kashino, the leadership of the Kashinsky district, the abbess of the Klobukov Monastery of the Nikolaev Monastery, mother abbess Varvara and sisters, as well as the only resident of the village of Kozhino, mother Fomaida. A prayer service was performed at the church, after which everyone was able to venerate the relics of St. Macarius, who had once left these places on his long prayer journey. It was a warm, quivering meeting.

During its journey, the 14th Volga Cross Procession covered four dioceses: Tver and Kashin, Rzhev and Toropetsk, Bezhetsk and Vesyegonsk and partially Moscow, passed through 14 districts, visited many cities and towns. And now the final stage has come. By 4 pm, hundreds of Kalyazin residents, numerous guests, and clergy gathered at the pier of the Kalyazin Yacht Club. As soon as the boat "Fortuna", decorated with images of the icons of the life of Makariy Kalyazinsky, with a shrine on board, appeared in the bay of the river, bells rang at the Church of the Ascension. The joy of meeting overwhelmed the hearts and looks of those waiting on the shore. “What a joy!”, “Kalyazin waited!”, “The relics are coming!” - an enthusiastic whisper was heard in the crowd of people. Bread and salt, according to the old Russian tradition, welcomed the long-awaited guests - Bishop Victor and pilgrims. The relics in a portable shrine were brought ashore and immediately, without delay, all the participants lined up for the procession. People parted to the sides. Past this long living corridor, the monk took his first steps across the Kalyazin land! Welcome back! People were baptized, many had tears in their eyes. But the stormy summer sky did not allow itself to overshadow this meeting with a single drop of rain ...

The path from the pier to the temple was accompanied by an incessant ringing of bells, and the road to the great shrine was covered with petals of white and red roses, which were scattered by young Kalyazinians, walking ahead of the procession. There were enough petals for the whole long journey, because several dozens of summer camp pupils collected them especially for the event. This meeting brought everyone together! This was evident both during the preparations and in the mass procession, the long tail of which stretched along the entire street. The closer it was to the temple, the more the feeling of tremulous joy grew - now the Monk Macarius will be in his temple!

The temple was just amazing. Everywhere fresh flowers and garlands of them: on the canopy for the relics, near the icons, on the windows, under the vaults ... New iconostases and shrines shone with fresh gilding. So much work has been invested in preparing the temple for this major day. Remembering what ruins were some fifteen years ago here, I can’t even believe what the church has become now.

People quickly filled the entire space of the temple, the choir did not stop singing. The relics were installed in the very center, and the evening service began. It was headed by Metropolitan of Tver and Kashinsky Victor. Everything was very solemn and majestic. But at the end of the service, the prayer did not stop sounding until the morning of the next day - the second day of the celebrations. All night long prayer standing with the reading of an akathist to the Monk Macarius of Kalyazinsky took place in the temple. Ten priests from the Kimrsky and Kalyazinsky regions served in turn; some came to the service with their clergy. People also changed, but the temple was not empty. Believers signed up in advance in order to be distributed by hours and pray all night in honor of their saint. At that time, a special atmosphere reigned in the temple: the light was dimmed, candles burned, from time to time the worshipers knelt down, and at the end of each service they applied to the relics.

On this bright night it was unusually quiet, the sunset over the Volga slowly turned into dawn, the first rays of the sun appeared over the Monastery Island, where the procession will go on the coming day ... In the very heart of the lost holy monastery.

On the morning of June 15, the temple was again filled with Kalyazin residents and guests who arrived on the main holiday; the liturgy was led by Metropolitan Victor. Now there was a lot of light and rejoicing for the glory of the Russian Orthodox Church and its saints, one of whom returned to his historical homeland.

Near the temple there is a monument to Mikhail Skopin-Shuisky - the great Russian commander, defender of the Trinity Makariev Monastery in the Time of Troubles. The people of Kalyazin and the guests laid flowers at the monument to this young hero, and after that they moved to the monument to St. Macarius in the old part of the city of Kalyazin, where a solemn meeting was held dedicated to the transfer of the relics and the completion of the procession.

The relics were placed in front of the monument, surrounded by children on both sides - all dressed in white, with white balloons in their hands. The procession participants stood on the bottom side of the square, the priesthood on the other. The solemn ceremony was opened by the head of the Kalyazinsky district Konstantin Ilyin. On this special, historic day, he spoke about the great significance of the event for all Kalyazins. From the bottom of his heart, he expressed gratitude to Metropolitan Victor for his decision and such a gift. Vladyka also addressed the large crowd. He noted that 30 years ago and could not have imagined that such an event could happen. During the years of renunciation of the faith, even the priests had little hope of restoring the former spirituality of the people, let alone of supporting state power. But Lately showed that Russia is strong and the faith in its people is strong. The return to spiritual origins can be traced in the best possible way on the example of little Kalyazin, in which the very heart was exterminated - the Trinity Monastery - the monastery of St. Macarius. Believers, ascetics, with the support of local authorities, have done a lot here so that this city again becomes the Orthodox center of the Upper Volga region, and the Lord showed him great mercy in returning the relics heavenly patron. Vladyka noted that he had fulfilled his promise; and after 23 years of waiting, the people of Kalyazin met their dear, long-suffering shrine. He wished: "Let Saint Macarius, as in ancient times, be the defender of Rus', let him not leave us all in his prayers and intercede for us before the throne of God!"

These sincere words deeply touched everyone who came on this sunny day to the great holiday.

Archpriest Pavel Sorochinsky addressed everyone with congratulations and summed up the results of the 14th Volga Cross Procession. The guest of the holiday, the representative of the trustees of the procession - the company "KSK" - Alexander Bulychev, spoke.

Emotionally strong and very correct was the speech of Irina Nikolaeva, teacher of the city basic school in Kalyazin. She said: "We live in an amazing place, consecrated by the prayers of so many great saints: Macarius Kalyazinsky, Anna Kashinskaya, Sergius of Radonezh, Tsarevich Dmitry, Paisiy Uglichsky, Irinarkh the Recluse. These are holy places, holy Russia. Think about it, no country has ever been called that Throughout history, we have not heard the words holy England, holy France, holy America ... But Russia was and remains holy. And our ancestors confirmed this. " Irina Petrovna called this day the beginning of a new stage spiritual rebirth in the life of Kalyazin and dedicated the following poetic lines to him:

Today is a holiday in my city:
The heavenly patron has returned to us.
I think we all realize
That we spiritually need to wake up.

Feel where is evil, and where is good,
And try to live according to the commandments of God.
And realize how lucky we all are -
Live in Russia and be called Russian!

And keep the Orthodox faith,
As our ancestors bequeathed to us forever.
And only then Russia will live,
No matter what her enemies are up to.

Then the celebration continued with the awards ceremony. Diocesan awards - Medals of St. Simeon - the First Bishop of Tver and Bishop's letters for diligent work for the glory of the Holy Church were awarded to those people who made a special contribution to the revival of faith in our Kalyazin land, the restoration of churches, in particular, the Church of the Ascension and the preparation of the transfer of relics Macarius Kalyazinsky. These were donors from other cities: S.V. Zuev, A.N. Fomochkin, D.V. Yakovenko, A.M. Roitman, A.L. Nabatov, G.V. Raushenbakh, A.A. Zaikin, I.N. Gubin, as well as the people of Kalyazin: K.G. Ilyin, Archpriest Leonid Beresnev, S.N. Kruglov, A.V. Zemlyakov, A.A. Kolosov, L.V. Panin. The awards were presented by the Metropolitan of Tver and Kashinsky Victor.

The triumph of the Orthodox faith was continued by those who carry it into the future - our children. To the song "One Hundred Holy Churches", performed by the vocal ensemble "Do-mi-sol-ka", kids from kindergartens released white Balloons, as a symbol of the purity and holiness of our heavenly patron, and also the motto "Makariy Kalyazinsky - the protector of the Russian land" soared into the clouds. After laying flowers at the foot of the monument to Macarius, the procession went to the banks of the Volga to sail on the ship to the Monastic Islands. The relics of the monk were carried around the island and installed near the tower-chapel built here as a sign of the possible revival of the Trinity Monastery. Vladyka Victor served a prayer service. The pilgrims once again paid tribute to the memory of this holy place, which, after the Volga waters, keeps a rich history with all its tragic pages.

Returning from the island, the procession continued through the city and returned the shrine to the Church of the Ascension. From now on, she will stay in an oak shrine under the canopy in the aisle of Macarius Kalyazinsky for prayerful joy to local believers and all pilgrims. I didn't believe it, but it happened. Who knows, perhaps over time, the Lord will help another miracle to happen - the revival of the Trinity Makariev Monastery.

The final point of the 14th Volga Cross Procession in Kalyazin was the traditional festival of sacred and secular music. It took place in an open area in Victory Park. Before the concert, the guests and participants of the procession laid flowers at the obelisk to the soldiers who fell during the Great Patriotic War.

During the opening ceremony of the festival, the head of the district K.G. Ilyin. On behalf of the Governor of the Tver Region A.V. Shevelev was welcomed by A.V. Gagarin. Representative of the Sergiev Posad district of the Moscow region S.B. Tostanovsky handed over to the rector of the Church of the Ascension, Fr. Leonid icon of Sergius of Radonezh. Metropolitan of Tver and Kashinsky Viktor thanked the people of Kalyazin for the warm welcome and hospitality. He reminded everyone of the words of St. Sergius of Radonezh, spoken during the Battle of Kulikovo, - "Only by unity and love will we be saved!" These words are consonant with the motto with which the present Religious procession passed along the Upper Volga - "From peace in the soul to harmony in civil society!"

Participants of the festival - from Kalyazin, Kimr, Moscow - presented their creative performances to the listeners. From Kalyazin they were: Oksana Abramova, a vocal group at the regional library "Do-mi-sol-ka", Vika Fedorova, the ensemble "School Years".

So these two days passed - historical for modern Kalyazin. The fate of this city reflects the fate of our entire Russia. Historically significant events took place here, decisive battles in the Time of Troubles, the names of great ancestors are associated with this corner of the Russian land. Here, as throughout Rus', during the years of the godless Troubles, temples and churches were destroyed, and the Kalyazin bell tower, which stands in the middle of the Volga, became a symbol of this desecration. The long-suffering Russian land comes alive with faith that unites people. The event that took place here these days is a clear evidence of this. From now on, the people of Kalyazin should live worthy of this great mercy of God and continue their path to the Orthodox faith. The time has fallen for us to atone for the sins of our ancestors. The monk returned to Kalyazin, which means we received forgiveness to some extent. Holy Father Macarius, pray to God for us!

Yana Sonina

Troparion to Saint Macarius:

“Carnal wisdom, Father Macarius, you have killed with abstinence and vigil, the place is more, on it you have poured out your sweat, like a trumpet, cries out to God, telling your corrections, and after death, your honest relics exude healing. May our souls be saved."

Today I read Tatyana Grigorieva's review of the story about St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky. I have many memories of this ancient city. I looked at the website of the Tver diocese with the hope of finding out the schedule of the Volga Cross Procession - 2011
and, lo and behold, Vladyko Victor, Archbishop of Tver and Kashin, blessed the transfer of the relics of St. Macarius to Kalyazin.

Http://tver.eparhia.ru/sobyt/news_ep/?ID=3271

On the day of memory of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky, Archbishop of Tver and Kashinsky Victor celebrated the Divine Liturgy at the Church of the Ascension of the Lord in the city of Kalyazin
30.03.2011

March 30 Russian Orthodox Church commemorates (the day of repose) the Monk Macarius, hegumen of Kalyazinsky, the miracle worker.

Archbishop Victor of Tver and Kashin officiated Great Compline and Matins with Polyeleos at the White Trinity Cathedral in Tver, concelebrated by Cleric Voskresensky cathedral Archimandrite Sergius (Shvyrkov), rector of the Church of St. John the Baptist in Tver, priest Vyacheslav Drogovoz, clerics of the cathedral. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts was officiated by His Eminence in the Church of the Ascension of the Lord in Kalyazin. Vladyka was co-served by Archpriest Yevgeny Morkovin, Dean of the Kimry District, Archpriest Leonid Beresnev, Confessor of the Diocese, and clergy of the Kimry Deanery. During the service, Archbishop Victor awarded the cleric of the Church in honor of the Entry of the Mother of God into the temple of the city of Kalyazin, priest Roman Reshetilov, the right to wear a pectoral cross.

The Monk Macarius, abbot of the Trinity Kalyazinsky Monastery, was born in 1402, in the village of Gridtsino (Gribkovo, now Kozhino), near Kashin, into a God-loving family, strictly honoring the commandments of the Lord. Parents, the boyar Vasily Ananievich Kozha, who became famous for his military exploits under Grand Duke Vasily Vasilyevich II Dark, and his wife Irina (their memory is honored locally) from childhood raised Matthew (name in the world) in faith and reverence. The lad loved to spend time reading spiritual books, and everything he read deeply sunk into his heart. He was not fond of games and in his soul he constantly offered prayers dear to his heart, psalms and spiritual hymns, thinking at the same time how to serve God.

When he began to come to perfect age, Matthew began to think about moving away from the vain worldly life; his parents, however, did not want him to accept monasticism, and they cited biblical examples of the life of the New Testament saints who were saved in the world. The obedient son, not wanting to upset his relatives and obeying, agreed to the marriage and soon married the maiden Elena Yakhontova. The young spouses promised each other that if one of them died, the widowed would become a monk. A year after the wedding, Matthew lost his father and mother, and two more years later, Elena died; and the twenty-five-year-old Matthew left the temporal, seeking the eternal, and entered the nearby Nikolaevsky Klobukov Monastery, where he took the tonsure with the name Macarius and devoted his whole life to serving God. Miraculous was the prayer of the monk, who received during his lifetime from God the gift of healing the sick and suffering; The Lord rewarded the spirit-bearing elder with the gift of clairvoyance. Abbot Kalyazinsky reposed in 1483 at the age of 82. Many healings of people suffering from diseases of the joints, legs, blindness also occurred from the relics of the saint.

In 1521, the imperishable relics of the Kalyazinsky miracle worker were found. Until 1547, Saint Macarius was venerated locally. But miracles and people's love contributed to the fact that at the Moscow Cathedral of 1547 he was canonized as a saint. God's Pleasers, and it was decided to celebrate his memory throughout Russia.

__________________

Now honoring the memory of St. Macarius, Archbishop of Tver and Kashinsky Victor officiated at the White Trinity Cathedral in Tver, since the relics of the Kalyazinsky saint have been buried here since the early 1990s.

BY THE DECISION OF THE DIOCESAN COUNCIL (dated February 22, 2011), AT THE APPLICATION OF THE BLAGOCHINNY KIMRSKY DISTRICT, Archpriest Evgeny Morkovin and Rector of the Vvedensky Church of the city of Kalyazin, Archpriest Leonid Beresnev, of the relics of St. Macarius of Kalyazinsky WILL BE TRANSFERRED from the White Trinity Church in Tver to the city of KALYAZIN as part of the VOLZH PROCESSION - 2011.

Reverend Father Macarius, pray to God for us!

THANK YOU GOD, THANK YOU!