"Do not be angry with me, young man, son of a holy man, and do not offend me without any fault on my part." For your father, taking pity on my misfortune and poverty, voluntarily gave me this ox of his, since my ox, working under the yoke, suddenly fell unexpectedly.

Hearing this, the youth was ashamed of his vain anger. Hurrying home, he told all this to his mother. And she, having listened to him, cried out with tears:

"Woe to me, poor wife of an unmerciful husband!

And she tore her hair and, screaming and screaming, ran to her husband, reproaching him:

"You are an inhuman man with a heart of stone!"

And therefore it was not for God's sake that thou didst give thy ox to the peasant, but for thyself's sake, that thou wouldst not labor to harness it, but live in idleness and idleness. However, what answer will you give to the Lord, if because of your laziness I and your children perish of hunger?

Looking at his wife, Blessed Philaret answered her with meekness:

- Listen to what God Himself, who is rich in mercy, says: "Look at the birds of the air: they do not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns; and your Father who is in heaven feeds them. Are you not much better than them?" (Matt. 6:26); Will He not nourish us, who are incomparably dearer to Him than birds? He promises to repay a hundredfold to those who, for His sake and for the sake of the Gospel, distribute their possessions to the poor. Consider, then, that if we gain a hundred for one oxen, why should we grieve for the will which I have given to the needy in the name of the Lord?

The merciful man said this not because he consoled himself with the hope of a hundredfold reward in earthly life, but in order to calm his faint-hearted wife. And she fell silent, finding no objection to her husband's prudent words.

Less than five days had passed after that, when the ox that Blessed Philaret had given to the peasant ate the poisonous plant and fell. This perplexed the peasant and, coming to Philaret again, he said to him:

-Mister! I have sinned against thee and thy children, that I have parted a pair of thy oxen; surely, therefore the righteous God did not allow me to profit from your ox, for he ate too much of some potion and died.

Without uttering a single word, Blessed Philaret quickly brought his last ox and, giving it to the peasant, said:

"Brother, take this ox and take it away; but I must go to a distant land, and I do not want the working ox to remain idle in my house without me.

The blessed one said this so that the man would not refuse to accept another ox from him. The villager, having received the ox, returned to his house, marveling at the great mercy of the blessed man. Meanwhile, in the house of Philaret everyone soon learned about his deed. The children began to cry with their mother and said: