And he answered me:

"My child, when you pray, I pray too. Holding your head in my hands, I take your soul and, showing it to Christ, I ask Him to have mercy on you, to help you, to bring you to your senses, and to give you everything you need. Both to you and to your whole family.

My prayer alone is not enough

Father Porphyrius had many grace-filled gifts. He had the gift of patience and the gift of vigilance. He did not sleep at night, dedicating them to prayer for all people, and especially for those suffering from serious illnesses.

He himself always said: "I will pray, but it is not enough. It is necessary that you correspond to my prayer. For God, wishing to send us His grace, must find us standing with outstretched arms, ready to receive His grace. Whether He heals us of our ailments or allows the trial of illness to continue, He always acts with our spiritual benefit in mind."

Most of all, I help you with my prayers

At the first meetings with Father Porphyrios, I was always worried and felt indecisive. How to approach, how to ask, how to get an answer? When the Elder was not in Kallisia, or he did not accept him because of illness, or only silently gave a blessing, I felt emptiness in my soul. Little by little, Father Porphyrius freed me from this timidity. One day he said to me, "You know, I feel like I'm helping you a lot by praying for you." "I am very glad to hear this from you," I replied, "because I also feel

Your prayer. Thank you and ask you not to stop praying for me. Always, especially in moments of trial, I ask Christ for help through your prayers and always feel that I receive what I ask for." The elder beamed with joy and answered: "What are you saying, my child! Do you do that? I feel it too."

Another time he said to me: "You know, I see that I help you more with my prayers than with my instructions. I always remember you in prayer. Pray for me, a sinner, too." These words were the Elder's response to my dissatisfaction with the fact that I could not see and talk with him often. "I am very grateful to you, Geronda," I said, "Now you have freed me from the burden that weighed me down greatly, since I burdened you too. Now I will not be upset because I cannot see you or talk to you. It is enough that you pray for me, and then I will receive help from Christ. And this will be the greatest help that can be."

The Elder Teaches Us Prayer

One evening we came to Callisia. In the courtyard in front of the Elder's cell, we saw a multitude of pilgrims waiting for their turn. We were the last. When it was our turn, it was already dark. We went to Father Porphyrius one by one, and when everyone had confessed, the Elder accompanied us to the monastery fence. Although he was very tired, he was in high spirits. It was a wondrous summer night. A gentle breeze was blowing, and the full moon was rising from behind the pine-covered hills.

In this wondrous place, silvered by the pale light of the moon, which gave everything, both living and inanimate, an unearthly appearance, the Elder found it convenient to talk to us about prayer. He taught us not theory, but practice. Father Porphyrius always taught by example. There were four of us, the Elder being the fifth. He turned us to face the east, put two of us on his right and two on his left, stood in the middle himself and said:

"Now we are going to pray mentally. First I will say the words, and then you will repeat them. But be careful, don't rush and don't worry. Speak calmly, humbly, with love, gently."

And the Elder began to pray in his thin, soft, expressive voice: "Lord, Jesus Christ, have mercy on me." He spoke very slowly, word by word, without any haste, as if standing before Christ and addressing Him. He made a long pause after the word "Christ" and pronounced the word "have mercy on me" with a pleading intonation. And each time we repeated the prayer after him, trying to imitate him, the timbre of his voice and, if at all possible, his spiritual disposition. At some point, Father Porphyrius stopped saying the prayer loudly, only his lips continued to whisper it. We did the same. How long did this night prayer last? I don't remember. The only thing I remember is the feeling of tenderness that seized me, which cannot be described in human words.