First meeting.

The front car stopped - we arrived. A small neat house, near the gate we are greeted by a woman with a friendly smile - my companions, apparently, are well known to her, immediately questions begin about the health of mothers, children, etc. I expected black dresses, scarves, deliberately gloomy clique faces (for some reason, this is considered a true Orthodox appearance), but I saw normal people with a smile on their lips. Several more women came out of the house, among them were parishioners of our church.

I go in and... I freeze.

This state cannot be conveyed in words, it is the experience of some kind of childish delight and trepidation at the same time. A hundred-year-old old man was reclining on a metal bed. He was very tall, probably about ninety meters tall, and had unusually regular Slavic features. A huge beard and long, slightly curly hair on his head were white. No, it was not a gypsy gray hair, this whiteness was, as it were, the personification of the essence of this man. His entire appearance, the image of a monk, an ascetic of the first times of Christianity, struck with its grandeur and spirituality, prayerfulness. And only the eyes were somewhat different - they radiated some extraordinary freshness and kindness. A slight smile played on her lips, kind, affectionate, I would say, warming. "Come in, holy fathers, come in!" "Yes, I think, saints! I did not have time to have this thought, and the elder answered, as if continuing his first phrase: "Yes, everyone has enough sins, but the holiness of a priest is of a special kind, it is not the holiness of an ascetic, acquired by God's mercy and help, depending on the absence of sins. The original holiness of a priest is bestowed, not erasable! Some will manage to spill over, but the Lord will make up for it - bad, but his own!"

Those around me did not understand, of course, that they heard the answer to my thought, and I took note of it - I need to be careful! Everyone took turns kissing the elder and, at his invitation, sat down on the chairs that stood by the bed. "There have just been orators," the elder nodded his head to his chairs, and grinned, "they proved the absurdity of the Last Judgment, the end of the world, heaven and hell, they say, all the dark fishermen invented it! Maybe they had heard the truth, but they could not understand it - there was no higher education! We, bright heads, do not deny the existence of God, not as a Person, but as a universal cosmic mind. And their quotes are selected for another soul-destroying theory. And I'm lying and thinking," the smile disappeared from his lips. Anthony, if only it was their zeal for study, and not teaching! They finished and are waiting for what I will say. And what to say, there is nothing to say - only stupidity!

I will respond to stupidity with stupidity! Have you seen a demon, I say?! Well, they replied with resentment: "We are serious, and you are joking!" and I answered them that you dare to quote the Gospel, and you are familiar with the Holy Fathers, with their works, but you have no understanding! You have come to find confirmation of your superstitions and, first of all, the idea that the Church is useless, that it is not necessary in the matter of salvation, alas, I am not your helper! Yes, he was. Yes, he was not accepted into the clergy of several dioceses. But can this be a reason for blasphemy against the Church with Her dogmas?! You are trying to turn the Gospel against the Church, and who gave it to you if not the Apostolic Catholic Church! And for the sake of the demon I am not joking for you, it is not a joke to see him, re-read St. St. Seraphim of Sarov or St. Ignatius Brianchaninov!

They are silent, and there is nothing to say to them - to see is to know, and to know is no longer faith, but knowledge! And a conversation about faith. About faith, it seems, it is easier to talk - faith, try, find out where the truth is, I believe in this, and he believes in another! At first glance - everything is logical! Alas, only for the first one!"

The elder fell silent. My companions, sensing Father Anthony's fatigue, began to get up from their seats and say goodbye. I followed their example, although it seemed that I would not leave this house, such calm and peace were in my soul. We bowed, and then, already at the door, I heard the voice of the Elder: "Father Alexander, we already know each other!" "Do you remember, Verkhnedno-Novskoye, eh, Father Alexander?!"

I remembered. These were terrible pages of my life, it is impossible to imagine a more terrible one. Grief overtook me, although, to be more precise, signs of grief, I do not want to return even to that time, but for two nights my mother and I did not sleep.

It's Sunday, I can't serve. The parishioners all know our tragedy, they have come together in church and read akathists. It was about 9-10 in the morning, a young guy came up to me and said: "Father and matushkas told me to tell you, from. Alexander, do not worry, do not take any action, but pray! Everything has already been resolved, everything is fine!" Honestly, I was taken aback by his words - what kind of priest and matushka?! My predecessor lived in the village, a native of the Lviv region, suspended from the priesthood, but he was the least of all for such matters! People came to him for spare parts for foreign cars, for resale of some, but something like that!! And here is the father and the matushkas!

I knew the boy quite well, he often asked to read something on the kliros, he tried, his diction was very good, his name was Victor.

"Vitya," I asked, "well, all right, mothers, and who is Father?!" "Like someone - Father Anthony! He constantly visits them, serves the Liturgy, confesses, communes, instructs all of us, who else! He also prayed for you, all night, said that you calm down, everything is already fine!" But when I entered the church, hundreds of people were praying, and an akathist was being read. Somehow I got on my knees, took the "Akathist" in my hands and... With tears, a moleben began to be served. I learned that everything was already really fine only in the evening. And then there arose a really serious interest in this elder - from. Anthony.

I saw him. There was some kind of festive service of Great Lent. I began censing after the Proskomedia, and then the senior sexton jumped up and almost shouted:

"Father, from. I go out to the censing, and immediately my gaze rests on a majestic elder, in a cassock and a warm, somewhat old-fashioned cassock with an archpriest's cross with decorations. After the censing, on the clock, I go out and invite the priest to concelebrate. He politely refuses, referring to the fact that he will serve in another church. And that's it. At the Little Entrance, he was no longer in the church. Then there was a transfer, a new parish, and everything melted away in the bustle of the present days. Now I hear a familiar voice again.