The hieromonk at the grave points with his finger: bring it here. The peasants are carrying a relaxed man, who was poured at the cross. His frightened eyes look under the dome, into the light. The hieromonk indicates that it should be brought in as a side. He asks - what is the name? The old woman shouted, in tears: "Michael, father... Mikhail.. Pray for your son... Reverend Father.. The hieromonk says a familiar prayer, "Gorkin taught me: '... Soon show me a visit from above... to the suffering servant Mikhail, who flows in faith..."Gorkin prays fervently. I pray too. The old woman cries: "Our dear... An ambulance also came to help... The hieromonk looks into the grave of the monk and prays in a mournful, calling voice: "... and raise him up in praise of Thee..." The patient is lifted above the crayfish, turned to face, applied. The hieromonk takes the pink "air", puts it on the head of the sick person and crosses him three times. The old woman bangs her head against the crayfish. I'm getting scared. They sing and shout loudly: Venerable Father Sergie... Pray to God for na-as.. Everyone is singing. The lights of the lamps are flowing, the golden lights of the crayfish are trembling, the pink veil in the coffin is moving... — everything is alive! I see a blessing hand made of silver on the reliquary raised on the lid. The hieromonk covers me with something, and crosses me three times: "... in Thy singing... and praise unceasingly..."I remember these words. Gorkin repeated them many times, reminded them. They seemed wonderful to me and incomprehensible. Now they are both wonderful and understandable. We go out, breathe at the flower garden, listen to the bell ringing, look at the swallows, at the blue sky. We enter the cathedral again. The father brought me to Aksyonov in the Caucasus and handed me over to the young man. Aksyonov himself meets me, says: "It's very nice to meet you," and leads me to the front porch. A young lady embroidered according to the drawings, in multi-colored beads, leads me by the hand into the hall and begins to show me the rarities covered with glass bells: a horse carved from white wood and a cart, just like ours - only a toy - men in hats, as in the old days they carried, who mow hay, and a woman with buckets on a yoke. And he kept asking me: "Well... Do you like it?" The young man who drove us yesterday says to me affectionately: "Now I know who you are... You are a Moscow merchant, I know! And your last name is Petukhov... Do you see how many roosters are on you.. And everyone laughs. They show me an organ that plays with teeth – "Here is the daring troika rushing", treat me to fish pie at a large table and give me tea. I hear the voices of my father, Aksyonov and Gorkin from the other room. And he is there. The rooms are very clean and rich, the floors are parquet, star-shaped, rich images everywhere. The young man promises to give me the biggest horse. Then the young lady takes me to the garden and treats me to a victorian woman. In the gazebo they drink our tea, eat long pies with porridge. Savka runs up and demands me to my father: "Daddy is leaving!" The young lady herself leads me by the hand, away from the dogs. Her father and Aksyonov, Gorkin and the young man were walking around her, and the people were standing aside. A fat coachman holds the Caucasian by the bridle. They pat the cart, shake their heads and smile. Gorkin squats down and pokes his finger - I know where - at the "az". Father said to Aksyonov: "Yes, it's an amazing thing... and I did not know, I did not hear. Very, very nice, they reminded me of the old antiquity. I heard how, my grandfather sold dishes, after the French he brought them to Moscow, I heard. It turned out that our friends and companions were our old people. This is where the masters came from, where they were conceived, from the Trinity... It's a carving work.. "From us, from us, father... from the Trinity...," says Aksyonov. "The toys were cut for the children, and it was comforting themselves, remember.. My father invites him to visit us, to visit Moscow. Aksyonov promises to visit: "Your guests, the Lord will bring you to visit. So the relatives seem to remember everything. Why, you have to take into account... we are all relatives of the Lord and of the monk. I am very happy. It's good how it happened, it opened up by itself... at the monk's! As if this is how it should have been.He speaks touched, affectionately, and keeps patting the cart. "Excuse me, let's kiss each other, in our own way," my father said, and I could see on his face how excited he was: there were tears in his eyes. "Did you know my grandfather.. I don't remember him..." "But I remember, how ... " says Aksyonov. "He was taller and thicker than you, he was a cheerful man, a soul. Yes... must be taken into account... I'm old... Yes, I suppose he was seventeen years old, and he seems to be under your age, almost forty. Well, happily go, I'll see you again, the Lord willing.And they embrace each other in their own way. My father jumped up dashingly to the Caucasian, kissed me from Gorkin's arms, said goodbye to the young man by the hand, bowed to the beautiful young lady in the beads, gave me a penny for tea to the coachman, who was still holding the horse, ordered me to behave well — "otherwise my grandfather would punish me" — and dashingly galloped through the gate. "So we remembered the old days," Aksyonov said to Gorkin, "how well it turned out. And you, my dears, live, pray, without haste. As if relatives have been found.I still do not understand well why - relatives. Gorkin wipes his eyes with a handkerchief. Aksyonov looks somewhere, above the cart, and tears come to his eyes. "Roll it in," he says to the people on the cart and goes thoughtfully into the house. Even Fedya is asleep. After tea we will go to vespers, and tomorrow we will see everything. We'll live a little longer, and that's what papa said: "Live, you have nowhere to hurry." A young man with boys is playing skittles on a long track. Other young ladies come and take ours somewhere. The young lady said to us: "Play yourself, run... And we begin to eat to our heart's content. Anyuta tears up the Victorian woman and tells me about Father Varnava, how he confessed her. "Grandmother says you can't hide from him, he sees through everything. Here, I'll tell you, my grandmother herself told me, she knows everything... For example, one lady arrives, and she did not believe in God... Well, her clever people persuaded her to come, to see what a pleasing person, he could see through. Here she is, having arrived, saying... sat down at the table: "And what I have not seen, and what I have not heard! "And she saw and heard everything, she was rich. "What will he tell me!" – about the holy elder! Well, he could, grandmother says, send her a dead hour, for such blasphemous words. Only he is compassionate to sinners. And she sits at the table and breaks out of herself: "And why is he not coming, I can never wait!" And here will be the worst thing... Just don't be afraid, it will be good in the end. So, she was sitting, and the elder came out... and brings her a glass of empty tea, even without sugar. He greeted her and said: "And here is tea for you, and drink to your health." And the lady got angry and said: "And what are you, I don't want tea," from a holy man! As if she should be happy, the grandmother said, and she was like a demon in her: "I don't want tea!" grandmother said, bowed to her and said again: "Don't drink, don't drink... As it is, just talk with a spoon, chat!" And he left. What did he say! – dangle with a spoon. He left and did not come. And she sat and dangled with a spoon. Do you understand why he is doing this? He knew everything through and through. So she was chatting. That's when I understood... And it struck her. Then she repented with tears and became pious, respectful... Grandmother had seen it herself.. She tells a lot more. She says that maybe she herself will become a nun, if her grandmother dies in advance... "And what is it, in vain, to suffer!" So we sit under a currant bush, playing. Savka brings a samovar - it's time to drink tea, they will soon strike for vespers. Over tea, Gorkin tells us all why this happened to the cart. "As if they turned out to be relatives. But how it was, Aksyonov himself reported to me and dad. Your great-grandfather sold wooden dishes, junk. The French burned Moscow, left, ruined everything, no one had anything. So he realized in advance - everyone needs a household, dishes... No one has a spoon or bowl. I collected as much money as I could, went to these parts and far away, where dishes were sharpened. And I met this dad in Pereyaslavl Aksyonov. And that master carver, sharpened and cut all sorts of things, ornamental things, toys. And here there is no time for toys, for ruin! He lived poorly. And they met each other. And Aksyonov was a famous craftsman, from him, perhaps, these sheep and cows came from him, they sell them here at the Trinity, they buy them for the children's amusement... and he knew Metropolitan Platon himself, and he cut and polished him... and the hill in Bethany, Tabor, we will see tomorrow with you, he arranged. Only the metropolitan has already died, only now the French have left..." — and his support ended. And he had already made a cart for him, Platon, exactly the same as ours, with fine carving, with all sorts of decorations. And he also had the same cart, he worked with his son, with our current Aksyonov, whose house, and we are staying with him now. Well good. And everyone was amazed at their carts. And then, of course, everyone is ruined, there is no time for these balls. So your great-grandfather said to him: "I'll give you half a thousand to live on, buy dishes for me in all places, and then we'll work with you in the company." And they conceived such a business to drive dishes to Moscow. And then - just give it, it's still a shortage. People were smart... Aksyonov got rich, took up a toy again, went uphill. And then the toy was needed, the life calmed down and brightened. Now they, Aksyonov, how they work! Well good. So some time comes, and Aksyonov brings that debt to your great-grandfather. And as a gift - a brand new cart... Not their own, but the third one, they worked with their son, conscientiously. That's where our cart started, that's where it came from! And then that one died soon, and the other... old people. And the young people have forgotten each other. And the cart... Well, your grandfather drove it, sold red goods... And then the cart fell into the trash. And everyone forgot about it: a cart and a cart, but there is no interest to it, and it is not known what such a thing is for. Petite... It was covered with trash. And so, the Lord brought it, we dug it up, and we brought it into the light of God, when the time came for us to go to the Trinity-Sergius... So something pushed me, it came to my mind: let's take a cart, a light one, at us! And that's what brought her... she returned to her master. What a good response! That's why we're visiting now, and what respect you and I have. And again they recognized each other, as if relatives. On the other hand, we were received and caressed, in what grace we live! The old man began to cry, remembered his old things, father. How it turned out... And where... at the monk himself! And those carts are long gone, the other two. One was burned in a fire, at Metropolitan Platon's... and the other, at the Aksyonovs', also burned down in a big fire, a long time ago. They were no longer amused. The old man died, they got very rich from toys. The last things left on the shelves of the old man. This handicraft is unprofitable, for a good amateur who understands what is here... for their own joy and amusement... And who will buy! I ask: and now how, will Aksyonov take our cart? "No, they don't take back what they don't take. We'll have it left, we'll go home on it. They cleaned it up, cleaned it by the local craftsmen... They wanted to wash it, but the old man would not allow it. Let him wash it with the Lord's rain – that's what he said. Every day he admires it - he does not look enough. And the young man admired him. Only they won't make such a thing, it will take a lot of work! And I don't have such patience... Look at how Rezana is.. You can't do it with one hand and an eye, here you need to rejoice with your soul... The late Martyn was cutting the passers, try to cut it with one hatchet... What grapes.. This is a special matter, not an easy one. A bird sings in the bushes. They say," the young lady said to Domna Panferovna, "that the nightingales sing here at the very end, in a muffled way. And Fedya heard that he could not sleep at night. Gorkin goes out on the porch and says happily, sighing: "And how quiet, how good it is here... and the Trinity looks! O Gentle Light... holy glory... A bird whistles. In the Lavra, they preach the good news for vespers.

Part 1

Only it's still dawn, the garden is golden-pink, and the dew is fresh, I don't want to get up. And everyone is already on their feet. Anyuta braids her braid, Anti-Cannon prays to heaven, Gorkin combs his hair in front of the window, as if in a mirror. They say that the nightingale sang all the time at dawn. Through the door of the gazebo I see a jasmine bush sprinkled with flowers - white, with a golden heart. Domna Panferovna gasped over the bush: "Ah, jasmine... And on our table, in a jug, there is jasmine and yellow bells — Fedya picked yesterday — and a whole broom for rosehips. Fedya respects rosehip more - it has a spiritual aroma. And Gorkin also respects rosehips, and so do I. Savka carries a samovar with smoke and puts it on the threshold - let it burn a little. Everyone says: "Oh, good... Savka is satisfied, puts the samovar on the table in the gazebo. He said: "We always put the samovar with cones. Anyuta squeals with joy: "Grandma, there will be hot bells.. And Domna Panferovna answered her: "Ori, I haven't seen any kolobashkas yet?.. We are received in a royal way: yesterday pies with porridge and carrots, today hot bells, and relatives are not received like that. Fedya, as soon as the light rises, the prosvir leestrik rules: everyone needs to be registered—who is for the repose, who is for health, who is for how much — it is not an easy matter. "They forgot Solomyatkin, he treated him in Mytishchi...," Gorkin recalls, "write, Fedya: the servant of God Eutropius, for a nickel. They remembered, well, the servant of God Nicodemus, Aksyonov himself, and with him the maiden Mary — what an affectionate young lady! And the young man who drove us away: Savka said his name was Vasily Nikitich, "we need a prosphora for fifty dollars." And the sick Mikhail was attributed, relaxed, for three kopecks at least. If we see, we will give it away, or even eat it ourselves for his health. God forbid, the living would not be confused with the dead, trouble cannot be avoided. Once the monks messed up, they wrote down Fedosya for health, and Fedosey for the repose, but it should have been the other way around; We went to the Lavra with a large basket, a basket of berries and a pood basket – we bought it in a toy row, beat it against the post: whether its creak was strong. Father the prosphora told Sanya the Szaika to keep an eye on it, so we begged him to help him come with us, to look at the shrines, to show us, and he said to us: "He and the scribes of the prosphora will check everything and come to you..." Gorkin tells Sanya how to understand the leesterik: the first meta is the price, the cross behind it is for the repose, and the ring is for health. At long clean tables in spacious haylofts, the servants write with goose quills: they scrape the flour from the underwear and clearly aim in a church way. In the large cathedral we look at the Last Judgment – it is written all over the wall. And it's scary, but you can't tear yourself away. The monk tells for what sins what will happen. A fat green serpent writhes towards the fiery Gehenna, and all sins are written on it, and naked sinners, red-hot, are tormented in terrible torments; and these, with dogs' faces and horns, jump in from everywhere with pitchforks, green as grass. And above, with God, bright hosts of angels hang evil deeds and good deeds on golden scales — what can you do? — and souls look and tremble. Anti-Cannon sighs: "Lord... And kings are dragged to hell, and they are not condescended to, out of respect.. The monk says that heavenly truth is not earthly: it will be demanded from both the small and the great. We asked: who are the fat ones, in velvet caftans, who follow the tsars, twisted in chains, into the very depths of hell? "And those who bought gold and did all sorts of evil are the richest merchants. Gorkin says with a sigh: "We are also merchants... But the monk consoles us that there are righteous merchants, they do alms, holy monasteries are not forgotten – they decorate, and the merciful Lord condescends.I ask why the red-hot sinner lies on the "chief's" lap, and small green ones hang on her hair. The monk says that she is a shameless harlot. I ask her what sins she has, but Gorkin tells me to go, otherwise you will be afraid at night - you will see enough. "There," he said, "the red-haired man with the pouch is at his own!" Judas Iscariot sold Christ, now he is tormented with money... The monk says that Judas will be tormented without end: others, perhaps, will be ransomed by prayers, but Iscariot will not be rescued forever and ever, Amen. We also look at the refectory church, where the walls are painted with pictures, and we see sinners who have a mote and a beam in their eye. The knot is small and crooked, and the log is as thick as a beam. The monk said: "For understanding, it is written: you see a twig in your brother's eye, but you do not feel the log in your own! It hurts, doesn't it? We also see a fat rich man, in golden clothes and velvet, at a rich meal, where there is a roasted calf, and golden jars of drinks, and large loaves, and under the table the dogs swallow pieces of the calf; and on the threshold lies the wretched Lazarus on one leg, covered with sores, and picks up crumbs, and the dogs lick him. The monk tells us that this is how the unmerciful rich man is comforted in this life, and this is what is prepared for him in the next world! And we see: he stands in the hell hole and sticks up a single finger, and high, high, high, on the knees of old Abraham, under roses and apples, Lazarus feasts by the river in shining clothes, and angels bring him dishes and drinks. "Lazarus-Lazarus! wet at least one finger and cool my tongue!" – cries the unmerciful rich man from the flames, – says the monk, – but Lazarus does not hear and is comforted... In the Cathedral of the Trinity we pray to the old robe of the monk, simple, blue, without gold, and to his wooden spoon behind the glass near the relics. I asked, "Where is the cell?" But no one knows. Height-ah..." - dizzy. All around, wherever you look, you can only see pine forests. They say that there are bears there even now; there are also hermits. People look like gnats below, and the Cathedral of the Venerable One is just a toy. Swallows are flying below us, falling on crosses. Gorkin knocks on the bell with his nickel - such a rumble! They say that as soon as they start ringing, you need to open your mouth, otherwise your head will be torn apart from the spirit, there will be such a stir.Father prosphora gives us a basket of prosphora: "God has sent mercy! Everything was written in and taken out according to the line... Sanya the stutterer begs us to go into the kvass room and have a cold drink — they don't do this anywhere: — On... na-na... Me-mestnikov's kva-kva... juice! Father Vlasy has blessed us to treat you.Father Kvasnik himself brings us a wooden ladle with foaming pinkish kvass. We drink a lot, five ladles, we can't boast enough: either raspberries or roses, and sweet-sweet. Gorkin bows low to his father, the kvass-maker, and the father-kvass-maker also bows low, and says: "We drank the tsar's kvass in Mytishchi at Solomyatkin's... as the Tsar was treated, from the old days... Kvasok is good! And your kvass, father... In paradise, the righteous will drink such kvass... Heavenly! "Thank you, we are very glad that you liked our kvass," says the kvass player and bows low. "And in paradise, the Lord will bring whomsoever He will drink... new beer is the joy of tasting the Lord from the sight of Him. And the kvass will remain here.Fedya carries a heavy basket with prosphoras, the basket creaks.We roll to Bethany on a troika, the carriage rings and rattles. Gorkin and Domna Panferovna were in the main place, I was on their knees, on the front bench Antipushka and Anyuta, and Fedya with the cabman on the goats. We are riding in birches, the grace of the Lord is all around – rich meadows with flowers, such large daisies and bells! We ask the cabman to stop, we need to pick flowers. He said, "Well, well, we can amuse the children," and let the horses go to the grass: "And we'll make the horses merry." The hay here is reverendary, every horse grows stronger from it... Everyone rejoices: the grass is so strong. And the flowers smell special. I smell the flowers – they smell sacred.In the Bethany Monastery, in the church, – Mount Tabor! It stands instead of the iconostasis, and on it is the Transfiguration of the Lord. We climb the stairs and look: toy sheep are grazing, a blue stream is flowing in pebbles, a bunny is sitting in the moss, also a toy, on the bushes of berries and roses... — such a miracle! And in the mountain is the Lazarev coffin-cave.We look at the coffin of the monk made of pine - Gorkin recognized it by the tree. The monk said: "Don't gnaw, look! That's why we keep it in a shelter, otherwise it would be completely exhausted.And he opens the door, behind which I see the coffin. Gorkin tilted me and whispered: "Sharpen your teeth a little..." Don't be afraid. The saint will not demand from you.But I am afraid, I only knock my teeth. Domna Panferovna then said: "Forgive me, Father St. Sergius... And he shows in a handkerchief: so, with a splinter. And Gorkin also wanted to bite, but there was nothing, his teeth were loose. Domna Panferovna promised to give him half of it, to set it in the cross. Gorkin thanks me and promises to refuse me the shrine when he dies.We go through the ponds along the dam to the caves to Chernigovskaya - to be blessed by Father Varnava, Gorkin and says: - I said to the priest, it hurts you to sing prayer. Maybe he will sing it... And I'm already scared to see a holy man! I keep thinking: he smells my darling, he recognizes all my sins. Anyuta huddled and whispered to me: "She hid the Semite from the candles from her grandmother... I said to Anyuta: "He will certainly know, holy man. She takes a lump of moss out of her pocket - she plucked it on Mount Tabor! - sunflowers and a clear Semite in them and thrust it to my grandmother when we get down at the caves; her lips tremble, and she says faintly: "Here... I saw that the Semite was wrapped in candles... Domna Panferovna - slap her! "I know how tired I am.. I'll tell the priest, he's those.. And such fear fell upon us.. The monk leads us through the caves, shining a bundle of candles. Nothing curious, only damp brick walls, and I have no time for that, I keep thinking: he smells my soul, he recognizes all my sins! Then we serve a prayer service to Chernigov in the underground church, but I can't pray — I keep thinking about how I will go to the holy man. We come out of the ground, so blinding from the sun.The gray house in the yard is full of people. They say that Father Varnava came out, he would not appear again, he was tired. They point under the tree: "There's a sick man, the priest put his illness in his pocket, in a year, he said, he will be healthy! The old woman said to us: "How glad I am to you, my dears! What a joy we have, I tell you... What kind of affectionate, he asked, "Are you stupid?" He sat down on the cart to his son, stroked his legs, felt sorry: "We are fellow countrymen, son... You, they say, are from Orlovsky, and I, they say, are from Tula." As if we were fellow countrymen. He blessed the saint... "I," he said, "my son, I'll put your pain in my pocket and carry it away, and you'll come to us in a year on your legs!" He made me so happy, I lit it up... Everyone said: "So it will be, boy, look, how cheerful he is!" And Mike kissed the icon and kept saying: "I'll come on my own feet!" They said to him: "And when you come, a kind word is better than a soft cake!" At least the most lost one come to him. "And yesterday," the old woman tells us, "I made the young woman so happy. The baby fell asleep, the first... And she was confused, as if she had become a madman. She fell at his feet with the old woman, and he did not ask anything, his darling knew everything. He began to console: "Oh, what a lively-eyed one, and you are crying! Come on, daughter, a cross, baptize it!" And he told them again: "Call the newcomer, and come to me in a year, all together." That's when they understood... And we are glad: after all, this is a young girl with beads, Parasha, Fedya picked strawberries for her! We waited and waited, and a nun came out and said: "Father Varnava is leaving on business, he is building a distant monastery..." But it won't come out anymore, don't work, don't wait. Gorkin gasped and gasped... "Well, what can I do," he said, "the Lord did not bless you, killer whale..." he told me. And a little joyful - there will be no terrible things. We go to the gate and hear someone calling us: "Moscow, wait!" Gorkin said: "But it's the priest who is calling us!" Well, right at our word: to be blessed, they say, the Lord did not bless. We were all so surprised! He is so affectionate, and I am not afraid of him at all. Gorkin pulled me by the hand to the step and said: "Here, dear father, the baby... Father Varnava said, kindly: "Eat your prayers..." Sing, sing.And it seems to me that a light shines from his eyes. I saw his gray beard, his sharp cap, his bright, kind face, and his cassock thickly covered with wax. I feel good from the caress, my eyes fill with tears, and I, not remembering myself, touch the wax with my finger, scratch my cassock with my nail. He puts his hand on my head and says: "And this... You're so curious... the bees prayed with me, their tears are bright..." "What's your name, dear?" Gorkin is already telling me what his name is. Father crosses me, my head, three times and says in a sonorous voice: In the name of the Father... and the Son... Gorkin whispered in my ear: "Father's hand, kiss the hand." I saw a pale hand fumbling in the pocket of his duckweed, and I heard a hurried voice: "And to my..." – he affectionately calls my name – "a cross, a cross... He looks kindly and somehow sadly into my face and again hurriedly repeats: "And my... Cross, cross... And he gives me a small cypress cross – a blessing. Through involuntary tears – what caused them? I see a bright, affectionate face, kiss the cross that he puts to my lips, kiss the pale hand, press my lips to it. yes, it's good, Lord... And you are crying, killer whale! I look through the flowing tears, through the glass streams in the air, which spread into films, burst, see, sparkle. Where the porch is, the sun shines brightly, and in it, as in a blinding light, Father Varnava blesses. I see Fedya. The priest quietly pushed him aside with his palm, waving him away as if he were waving it away, but Fedya did not leave, he crumpled up. A ringing voice is heard: "And remember, remember! What are you... And who, son, will feed us with bagels?.. Fedya bows and whispers something, but we can't hear it. "God will forgive, God will bless..." and the Lord is with you, the good ones are more needed in the world.. And it's over.We're going to leave. Domna Panferovna is boring: the priest did not say anything to her, he only patted Anyuta on the head. And he only said to Anti-Pushka: "Ah, simpleton... Anti-Cannon is happy and cries too, like me. And we are all happy. And Gorkin – again his father called him: "my blue-winged pigeon". And he did not call Domna Panferovna in any way, only blessed her.

Part 2

We were about to leave and heard: "Ah, singing nightingales, they have brought a gift!" and we saw at a distance ours, from Kazanskaya, the choristers, the Vasilievskys: the fat Lomshakov, Batyrin-octave and Kostikov the tenor. Gorkin said to them: "Why, it's your father, you are our songbirds! They huddle, touch themselves at the throat, out of habit, and do not approach. And he said to them: "Yesterday they treated me to a gift... in the evening! By the pond, from the skete, I walked?.. The Lord blessed and sang. And now feed my children with a gift... And he turned his hand on the people, even on the porch, and the yard was full of people. Then Lomshakov said, growling as if: "Oh... Spodi.. They didn't know, father... Yesterday we sang by the pond... So it was you who walked along the bank and stopped under a birch tree.. And the priest said, affectionately – with a smile: – Well glorified. Glorify my children for joy.And so they approach, timidly, clear their throats, cross themselves to heaven and begin. They never sang like that - Gorkin later said: "Angels sing like that in heaven!" They sing a prayer-blessing, a prayer well known to me, which initiates the Vigil: Bless the Lord, O Lord my God, O Lord my God, Thou hast been magnified in all wisdom... They come to be blessed. The priest blesses them, each of them. They move away and wipe themselves with red handkerchiefs. The priest blesses everyone from the porch, with a broad blessing, and goes into the house. Lomshakov sits on the grass, fanning himself with a handkerchief and wheezing: "I am not worthy, I am a drunkard. And such joy.. For some reason, I feel sorry for him. And Gorkin feels sorry for him: "Don't be upset, killer whale... only the Lord knows who is worthy. Oh, Senya, Senya... How did you sing, brothers.. Lomshakov breathes heavily, whistling, rubbing his chest all the time. He says as if someone is strangling him: "It's over... His face is yellow and swollen. They say that he will not last long.Today is the last day, after lunch we will move.Early in the morning we go to venerate the relics - to say goodbye. It's fresh at dawn, the sun is just rising, the rooks are screaming hoarsely. From the still unseen sun, the laurel is merrily golden and delicately pink, it seems to be new, in new golden crosses. Roofs wet with dew glitter pinkishly on it. In the holy gates it is still quite deserted, resounding; rattling the keys, the ruddy monk unlocks the holy shop. The dewy flower garden smells of fragrant freshness - petunias, reseda, earth. The sky above the Lavra is holy, blue. Swifts run around in it, squealing with joy. And we are all happy, the Lord has sent us a day! Only a little boring: today we go home.After an early mass, we venerate the relics, ask for the blessing of the monk, light a travel candle. The hieromonk of the grave still stands at the head, as if he never descends. People are walking and coming, incessant prayers are singing, inextinguishable lamps are glowing.Sadly we leave the cathedral, we hear for the last time: Reverend Father Sergie, Pray to God for na-as.. And now I had to say goodbye to Sanya, to go to my father, the kvassman. Sanya drains the kvass, carries it with his ears somewhere. He is sad that we are leaving, looks at us so pitifully, says: "Why... ka-vasku-to, on the do-path.. And we laughed, and Sanya smiled: no matter how he saw us, he wanted to treat us with kvass. Gorkin said: "Oh, you gentle killer whale... You treat everything with kvass, we are completely leavened. "No, there is nothing more... u-u-u-u... Fyodor whispers to us that Sanya has made such a vow: he lives on bread and leaven, and it will be like this for the whole of Peter's Lent. Gorkin says - you need to show respect, drink kvass on the track. We sit down on a bench in the kvass chamber. It smells cool of mint and young, sweetish kvass. Drink a ladle on an empty stomach. Father kvass says that it is good for health – young kvass on an empty stomach – and asks us if we have been blessed with bread for the path. We tell him that right now we will go to be blessed with bread. "That's good," said the kvass, "bless yourself with a loaf of bread, for your health, it's always the way it's supposed to be. He accompanies us to the threshold, points to the bread shop. We already know the way, but we can find it in the spirit, and people always crowd there to bless themselves with bread. The bread spirit seems to make you dizzy, and you want a warm loaf of bread. Brown carpets stretch along the walls, on the shelves - you can't count them. In the door you can also see a chamber, with great kvashn-kads, with sourdough swollen to the top. On a long scraped table, there are rows of hot carpets-dies with a dark crust on top — they are catching cold. The air is thick, viscous, bread-leavened and warm. Gorkin sniffs his nose and says: "Lord, the bread is holy... And it seems to me: some kind of spirit... Father is a bread-baker, a tall old man, all in white, with his hands smeared in flour, says affectionately: "Why, how come... Be blessed with bread. The monk sees everyone off with bread, there is no refusal to anyone.Healthy young novices cut carpet after carpet, snatch it in slices, evenly. Gorkin rejoices at the work: "They snatch it so cleanly, one to one!The slices are put in a basket, taken to the door and distributed in a dignified manner to the pilgrims. And here I see a familiar picture: St. Sergius is giving a fat bear a loaf of bread. Father Khlebnik mends a carpet for us and says: "Accept the blessing of the monastery of the monk on the path, for strengthening." We bow low — Gorkin tells me to bow lower — and accept it, folding our hands. Domna Panferovna asks for more. Father Baker looked at her and said jokingly: "It's true, mother... who is so, and two shares are not enough for you. We went out, and Gorkin reproached her: it is not good, not for greed, but for a blessing, it is impossible to snore. Well, she justified herself: she did not ask for herself, but her acquaintances punished her, to sanctify herself. That's what we told the monk. Gorkin then returned and reported. We left the ward – pilgrims and pilgrims, politely following their friends, receiving the "blessing of bread". And everyone says: "And there is enough for everyone, and the Lord gives.. It is even pleasant to see: everyone walks and walks with bread; Some wrap the slices in clean linen, others eat them right there, on pebbles. We put the blessing in a special basket with a lid, which Gorkin bought on purpose: on the way we will eat in pieces, and we will take half of it home - a gift from the monk to good people. We put all we can into a mug on which it is written in the church: "For the food of the strange." And others followed us - the poor will be fed. We ate a bite at a time, and it became merry — as if the monk had treated us to a gift. From the Lavra we go to little Aksyonov, to the chest keeper, by the ravine.He is terribly glad to see us, does not know where to put us, asks about Trifonitch, treats us to tea and crumpets. Then he shows all the equipment - the workshop, where all sorts of chests - both large and small. Chests - with all sorts of calls: you lock it, unlock it - drone-drone! They are upholstered in shiny tin, both gold and silver, with frost, with tinned stripes, pasted on the inside with pink paper - for the Trinity - and are called - Trinity. It is as if they do not make such people anywhere else. Aksyonov gives us all a chest, and I get a special one, golden, with frost. We are embarrassed to accept such rich gifts, we say, "What will we give, have mercy on us..." Trifonitch told the truth: they could not get enough of him, how affectionate he turned out to be, more dear than his own.He asked about Trifonitch and about Fedosya Fyodorovna, Trifonitch's wife, whether the trade was healthy and good. We say that we are healthy and the trade is not going well, all right, but that's what happened. The other day Fedosya Fyodorovna put the samovar in the hallway, and the samovar began to make a noise, Fedosya Fyodorovna heard... I went to take the samovar, but the crooks took it away, with fire! And she felt sad: it was not good for someone in the family to die, as it happened, they noticed. By the Assumption Day, they gather for the Trinity. Aksyonov says that everything is from God... it happens that a sign is sent in case of death. "Well, they have a good prayer book, Sanya," he said, "they have nothing to worry about, and they are good people, extremely correct. Gorkin asks him not to be offended. "Have mercy, what an insult," said Aksyonov, "the monk himself brought you to Nicodemus!" And he is a glorious man, not my match.The bow asks Trifonitch to be demolished and calls another time to him: "Now you will find little Aksyonov at once.Then we walk in a toy row, near the walls, under the Lavra. The very toy nest at the Trinity, from the monk: and then they flocked with the children. For the big ones there is joy from the saint, and for the senseless there is a toy: to each his own joy.All sorts of wooden sharpenings here: cows and sheep, carved woods and huts, and forging blacksmiths, and kubariks, and a bear with a peasant, and chiseled eggs, a dozen in one: all multi-colored, nested in each other, with a red pea in the last one - no bigger than a pine nut. And winged mills, and spinning tops made of wood, on a high leg; and spinning tops, on a spring, with a screw head, painted to look like a rainbow, singing; and whistles, and tin cockerels, and tin pipes, painted with roses, scratching their lips with edges; and drums in gilded tin, joyfully smelling of glue and strong paint, and all sorts of horses, and carts, and dolls, and bast sledges, and... And the Trinity Lavra itself, a high pink bell tower, with all the churches, walls, towers, is collapsible. And the cut-out appetizers on the plates, doll-like, with a nickel, shine juicy, smell of wonderful color: ripe strawberries, and pimply raspberries, completely alive; and red, green, carrots, and green cucumbers; and crayfish, and granular caviar, and a salmon's tail, and a ruddy kalach, and a scarlet-sugar watermelon, with black grains on the cut, and kulebyaka, and pancakes in a pile, in sour cream... There are chiseled caskets, with a gasket of corners and crosses, with tans and with a sea tear, called mother-of-pearl; and baskets, and baskets - for every need. And cheerful tents with chests, shining like robes in a church. And an image, an image, an image, such a heavenly radiance! — on every Saint. And everything I see seems holy to me. "Why," says Gorkin, "everything here is enlightened, blessed. Then there were slumbering forests, and now, look, there is glitter! And the people rejoice, and are fed. We buy the most trivial things: a tin cockerel-whistle, a whistle-whip, a harmonica and a belfry with a nun, for full ringing - from Gorkin as a souvenir; and Anyuta's doll without a head, the body is stuffed with hay dust so that she can sew to learn - there is a head in Moscow. And they don't buy me much because young lady Manyusha said today, so as not to buy them: grandpa will give me a whole box of toys, he ordered the young men to pick them up. Lomshakov has a cannon to shoot peas, and Batyrin-octave has a bunny made of paper, in the grass. Kostikov is only empty, he has no children, he hasn't got one, he's thinking about everything. Lomshakov complains about his chest: he strangles and strangles me, he could not sleep after yesterday. They went from here by car - they hurried to Bogolyubskaya in Moscow: they had to sing, they ordered. We looked at all the tents: everywhere they were eating and eating, the children were walking in clouds. The cooks called: "Blinkov, dear.. Trinity custard, with lean oil.. "Won't you eat with your head and catfish?.. "Fried smelts, good gentlemen, I'll fry them with onions..." For three kopecks frying pan! Order pies with porridge and mushrooms.. "And you don't eat crucian carp?" Mushroom solyanochka, and with stellate sturgeon, and with beluga... Beluzhins with horseradish, hot?.. And sit softly, soak up after your work, swarm up, dear... and the most monastic kvasok.. We eat pancakes with smelt, and with onions, and custard porridges, completely through, you can see how the porridge is bubbling. We try crucian carp, and mushrooms, and - Anti-Gun begged to respect - a radish with hemp oil, for a snack. Domna Panferovna ate a whole pan of chanterelles, and we ate another. And what else would they eat, but Aksyonov would be offended, he was preparing dinner for the departure. Anyuta has seen a big fish there, and there will be botvinya from salted pike perch - Savka told us - and potato cutlets with sweet sauce, with prunes and sear, and a pie with raisins, in mustard oil, and cranberry jelly, and something else... - it is disrespectful to eat in advance. "They smear it with a cat's paw," Domna Panferovna laughs. And who says that it is hare. And they greased us with feathers, Gorkin looked at us, otherwise it was a sin to use a hare's foot. And the pancakes seemed to be led by the monk: there is a great confluence, we need to feed the people. We looked, and our singers were there: cabbage soup with head and pies with salted mushrooms. They saw us and covered something with a piece of paper. Gorkin then said: "Oh, Lomshachok... And Domna Panferovna sighed: "And what they pour into..." Well, they regretted and strained, but you can't help with a strain, you will only upset yourself. A box with toys stands merrily on the hay, a basket with prosphoras is tied into a clean sheet. Everyone sees us off, wishes us a good journey, Gorkin brings Aksyonov a large prosphora, for fifty rubles, and humbly thanks him for his affection and for the bread and salt: "We are very grateful to you!" "Well, good luck to you, my dears," he said, looking around the cart, "God will bring you in, come back again, I'm always glad to see you." Vasily will go to the fair soon, I will be in Moscow with him, I will visit Sergey Ivanovitch, and tell the host so. Well, that's good, we must take into account... oats and hay have been laid for you... And everyone admires the cart, strokes the bed. "Yes," he said thoughtfully, "we must take into account... yes, a cart... There won't be any more of them. Open the gates! He shouts to the janitor, pulls on his cap and goes into the house. "I'm upset," Gorkin tells us, in a whisper so that they don't hear. "Well, Lord, bless, let's go." Everyone wishes us a good journey. From behind the courtyard, the pink bell tower of the Trinity looks at us. Silently we go out of the gate. "Cross yourself on the Trinity," Gorkin said to me, "we'll see it someday.. The entire Trinity Lavra is visible: it shines on us with crosses. We cross ourselves on the blue domes, on the cross rising from the chalice: Most Holy Trinity, have mercy on us.. Here are the quiet streets of Posad, and the bell tower looks out from behind the gardens. So it is not visible. We go to the white road. Pilgrims come to meet them, they go to rejoice. And we rejoiced — and we are bored. We look around to see if we can see it. No, you can't. And here are copses with lawns, and paths. The cart gently tugs, dusting behind it. And here is the place from where you can see - between the forests. You can see between the forests, behind, at the very end of the road: there is a bell tower-Trinity, a golden top, only like a toy in the forest.. "So we prayed, the Lord brought... you have been vouchsafed grace...," says Gorkin prayerfully. "As if it were boring now, without the monk... And he, father, is invisible with us. You're bored too, dear, eh? Well, it's okay, killer whale, it'll be all right... And we'll hurry up with a prayer, Father said, Barnabas... We won't be bored. Begin the troparion, Fedya, — "Direct my steps," a softer soul.Fedya conceives unsteadily, and we sing everything:Direct my steps according to Thy word,And let me not possess me-o-o-u-u... Everything... bezza-ko-ni-i-e-e-e.. The cart is thumping. We quietly follow her