Let's go. For a long time, Fr. Gregory did not dare to say why he had come, but thanks to the first neighbor: he helped out! "Well, father, are you silent? Ask for NN-cha!" - "Excuse me: the spirit is lacking!" - "What's the matter?" - asks the owner. Fr. Gregory told me about his need. "Ah, Father Gregory! Take as much as you need!" - "After all, you have to pay for it, and I have no money." "We'll settle it down, you'll pay someday."

And Fr. Gregory, with the help of the same kind people (who also gave money), built himself a house, and, wasting no time, in the same house where he himself lived with his young wife, he gathered the children of the village and began to teach them to read and write. Thus, as early as 1848, the beginning of a parochial school was laid, or rather, a school of literacy. At that time, they did not "seek funds", did not expect help from anywhere, and did a holy deed in simplicity of heart: they took children, taught them seven and a half from their heads to read, write and the four rules of arithmetic, a pot of porridge and a measure of peas in addition - and the matter was over. This has been the case since time immemorial, and we once studied at our parents' school. This is what Fr. Gregory taught. And he was a master at teaching: all the time he was studying at the seminary, he gave lessons in the manor's houses, from where sometimes, as he used to boast, "they sent a carriage for him." All his life he loved children passionately, he knew how to caress them in some special way, to take possession of their hearts, he knew how to speak their childish language so that the children clung to him not even as to their father, but as to their own mother.

Years passed, and Fr. Gregory's school grew, expanded, and later divided into two: one turned into an elementary parish school, the other into a two-class school for the children of the orphanage. While there was no last one, Fr. Gregory prepared his pupils for the exam, and when they passed the exams, he received 17 or 18 rubles per student from the orphanage for training.

Spring has come. It turned out that there was a swamp near the house. Fr. Gregory immediately began to drain this swamp: he made ditches, dug a pond, and all this alone, with his own hands. And then he planted an orchard of fruit trees, which later began to give him up to 70 rubles: he himself took apples and cherries for sale to Belokamennaya.

But his main concern was the temple of God. He set himself the idea of building a stone church. For twenty-five years he had been building it, building it without major donors, only with the mites of parishioners and collecting for Mother Russia through "Uncle Vlas", and he had built it, and what a building it was! Three-altar, with a gilded five-tiered iconostasis, with a stone bell tower, and a bell of 200 poods cast... "Everything is God," the elder used to say, "God and good people are my parishioners. They worked, by their labors they built God's temple. They set up their own brick factory, for 25 years they transported firewood from forest dachas, bricks, goods to the factory of the late Pavel Grigorievich Tsurikov - they carried them, and I went to the office of the factory and received and took it to Moscow on occasion, handed it over to the safe treasury. So they saved pennies at a time, and when they saved a little, they began to build... All God and my good parishioners!"

But the humble pastor himself worked a lot. Every day more than once in the summer he went up the scaffolding to the construction site, himself, together with the foreman (the architect came twice during the entire construction season), supervised the work, gave instructions, went to buy materials himself, managed the brick factory himself, in a word - everywhere he appeared personally, not trusting any stranger - not because he did not have good and honest parishioners: In those days there were good people everywhere - but because "your own eye is a lookout", and you can choose a better product, and buy a cheaper one... I remember that in 1874 he came to see me in New Jerusalem, where I was then a novice, joyful and triumphant. "Thank God," he said, "the consecration of the church is permitted!" and he told how the unforgettable hierarch of Moscow, Metropolitan Innocent, received it. "I came to him at the wrong time: he, father, went to the bathhouse," they told me. "Oh, no, father: we can't do that, Vladyka has ordered us to report on everyone who comes from afar, without failing." - I'm sitting waiting. They say: he came. He calls to him. I enter the office. And he, father, may he rest in peace, comes out to me easily, wearing only a cassock, and water is flowing from his head and beard... Well, father, what do you say? Why did you come? I told him what was the matter. "Have you come from far away?" - he asks me. - For 70 versts. (It should be remembered that in those days there were no railways or highways.) And where," he said, "did he stop?" - At the inn, I answer. "Oh, how inconvenient it is," said the saint thoughtfully. "I must let you go as soon as possible, otherwise the consistory will drag out the matter..." Why, here's the thing: I'll write a resolution at once, my office will give you a copy of the attestation, and you go with God, show it to the dean, and consecrate the holy church... Such was the angel of God!" and tears of gratitude to the great Equal-to-the-Apostles hierarch watered the senile cheeks of my uncle. "Every day, both morning and evening, I commemorate him in my sinful prayer," the elder added, "and when I serve, I invariably commemorate his name with my relatives."

And the church was consecrated by the dean. Fr. Gregory said a word to his good fellow parishioners that moved them to tears. In general, he taught his spiritual children without philosophizing, in simplicity of heart and from the heart, he did not write his words, but spoke what his heart and love for spiritual children prompted him. And his word, like a good seed, fell on simple hearts and bore fruit after its kind. But following the Apostle's commandment to love not only in word, but also in deed, Fr. Gregory also showed in deed his love for his parishioners. It happened, for example, that when he walked around the parish with the shrine on Pascha, he noticed that the poor peasant's yard was open, the straw was taken from the roof and fed to the cattle: it was clear that he did not have a penny to pay the priest for his visit. The peasant met the priest at the gate, took his blessing, and Fr. Gregory asked him: "What, brother, do we have nothing to pay with?" - "Don't be judged, dear," he answered. And Fr. Gregory, taking 15-20 rubles out of his pocket, thrusts it into the peasant's hand, looking around, lest the sacristan notice it. "Take it, brother, pay us off, otherwise the sexton will grieve: after all, I, a priest, will live somehow, and he receives an eighth kopeck: how can he live with his large family?" That is why the parishioners loved him so dearly, and you should have seen how they saw him off when, after a serious illness for a whole year, he decided to go out of office: crowds accompanied him to the border of the parish and wept bitterly - these peasants, these coarse-looking natures... And when the elder settled in Moscow, they often visited him, their "dear father," and brought him unwise village gifts. And in Petrovo, despite the poverty of the parish, his house, by the mercy of God and the love of the parishioners, could be called a full chalice: he had horses and cows, geese and ducks on his pond of labor, rye, buckwheat, potatoes, and vetch were born in his field... God blessed everything!

The deceased loved to be transported by memories to his native Petrovo. With what gratitude to God he told about his life in this modest corner of the Moscow diocese! Often tears flowed from his eyes, tears accompanied by praise to the Lord. And it is worth noting this good trait in his spiritual appearance: he knew how to be firmly attached to people, but wherever he was, wherever he lived, everywhere God sent him people who knew how to appreciate his kind heart, responded to him with love and gave his responsive heart food for an outpouring of gratitude to God for the love of these people and to prayer for them.

One can think that thanks to this crystal purity and simplicity of his kind heart, good people helped him and his sons to give them an outstanding education: by the mercy of God, they now serve in the ranks of excellence, having inherited in their hearts the good heart of their elder-parent...

Любил, страстно любил старец сельскую природу: до восхода солнечного вставал он в летнее время, шел в лес или поле косить, пахать, в поле и отдыхал, а если бывала служба, то еще до утрени, бывало, наработается и вечером ложился после заката солнца. Спал так мало, что все удивлялись ему. Питался тем, что приготовит ему матушка - его верный неизменный спутник в жизни, друг в скорбях, помощник в трудах. Она была ему ровесница: только на три месяца моложе, и скончалась лишь в августе минувшего года, за пять месяцев до его кончины. Жили как два ласковых голубка, давая пример и детям и прихожанам. В характере, в личных качествах они как будто восполняли друг друга. Покойный приписывал эту милость Божию тому, что не сам он выбрал себе подругу жизни, а положился на волю Божию. И когда скончалась эта добрая старица, о. Григорий подошел к ее постели, преклонил колена и, целуя почившую, сквозь слезы трогательно промолвил: "И зачем ты меня покинула? Уж взяла бы и меня с собой!"... И стал готовиться к исходу в вечную жизнь: часто говел, причащался св. Тайн и, наконец, освятился елеопомазанием. Отпраздновав день своего ангела, 25 января, он уже не вставал с постели и 5 февраля тихо отошел ко Господу...

В погребении его участвовали несколько иереев - сродников его, и хотя он недавно жил в приходе св. Троицы, что на Капельках, но к погребению собралось много народа: видно, так было угодно Богу почтить старца Божия общецерковною молитвою...

О. Григорий являл в себе тип патриархального священника: всецелая преданность Богу, служение ближнему в простоте любящего сердца, готовность во всякое время отдать последнее нуждающемуся, крепкая вера в промысл Божий - вот чем он жил сам и учил других тому же. И на нем удивительно исполнялось слово Господа: "Ищите прежде всего царствия Божия и правды его, и сия вся приложатся вам". Он по мере сил, в простоте сердца делал свое дело и верил, что Господь во время благотребное не оставит его. И по вере его всегда бывало так. И храм, и колокольню, и школу, и дом себе он построил, и детей воспитал, а долгов не оставил: во всем Бог помогал!

Когда мне приходится беседовать с молодыми-иереями, то я указываю им на примеры таких старцев Божиих - иереев, питомцев старой школы, носителей старых заветов Руси святой. И грустно, и больно становится, когда оглянешься кругом и не видишь в молодом поколении таких патриархальных типов служителей Божией Церкви. Встречаются ревностные проповедники, школьные деятели, борцы с пьянством, - и за то, конечно слава Богу, - но слишком мало таких, в коих самоцен был бы совершенно убит сознанием, что сами-то они - круглый нуль, ничто, что если что и творится доброе через них, так ведь это отнюдь не они делают, а Бог через них: Бог и средства посылает, и случай дает, и силы, и время - все от Бога, и слава Ему - милосердому! В душе таких старцев живет страх: как бы не приписать себе чего-нибудь в деле Божием, как бы не лишиться за это Божия благословения и помощи в будущем. Это - страх Божий, начало - основа духовной мудрости, духовного рассуждения. Даже помыслить, что вот это сделал я, они считают святотатством. Оттого и проявляется в их пастырской деятельности незримое для других, но для них самих сердцем ощутимое водительство десницы Божией. Нельзя быть добрым пастырем, если не воспитаешь в себе, в чувстве своего сердца этого мистического настроения, этого живого ощущения водительства Божия в пастырском служении. Не свое дело делаем, а Христово: мы Его послушники, Его работники и даже более - соработники. И дело Его - великое: воспитывать чад царствия Божия, будущих граждан Иерусалима небесного. "К сим кто доволен?" - восклицал некогда избранный сосуд благодати - Апостол Павел. А он имел "ум Христов", он дерзал говорить о себе: "Не к тому аз живу, но живет во мне Христос..." Живет, а следовательно, и действует. Если же так судил о себе великий Павел, паче всех потрудившийся в благовестии Евангелия, первоверховный среди Апостолов, то что речем о себе мы, грешные, недостойнейшие носители благодати Божией, служители Церкви?.. Но у Христа таков закон: чем кто больше сознает свою немощь, свое недостоинство, тем ближе к тому и Его благодать: "Сила бо Его в немощи совершается". Вот почему, если и всякому христианину, то тем паче пастырю Церкви подобает всяким хранением хранить, как неоцененное сокровище, как нежный благоуханный цветок оберегать в чувстве сердца сознание своего ничтожества, своей беспомощности, постоянной нужды в Божией помощи...

Вот чем сильны были иереи Божии, подобные смиренному о. Григорию. Они крепко веровали, что Христос не оставит без помощи, не допустит до голодания и нужды безысходной Своего работника, и в основе их нравственного устроения глубоко лежало сознание, что смиренное чувство своего недостаточества есть та стихия, которой должен жить истинный служитель Христов...