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Od prechodu Protosa k Pánovi uplynulo 81 rokov. Vichentie Mălău: Bol jedným z mentorov svätého Kleopupreložené

13. júla 2026 · 1 min čítania

V pondelok si pripomíname 81. výročie odchodu do rúk Pána Protosinghela Vichentie Mălău, jedného z veľkých duchovných Moldavska a mentora svätej Kleopy zo Sihăstrii.

Narodil sa 28. novembra 1887 v dedine Ghidion v okrese Neamt. Jeho život bol od detstva poznačený výberom kláštornej cesty.

Keď mal len sedem rokov, jeho rodičia vstúpili do mníšstva spolu s tromi deťmi rodiny. Otec a syn išli do kláštora Secu, kým matka a dve dcéry si vybrali kláštor Văratec.

V roku 1895 odišiel spolu so svojím otcom na Svätú horu Athos, kde strávil 11 rokov v núdzi a duchovnej formácii s rodičmi Athonitmi.

Požehnané dielo Po návrate do kláštora Secu v roku 1906 boli obaja vysvätení na mníšstvo v roku 1912, otec dostal meno Dometian a syn meno Vichentie.

Po vysvätení za hieromóna bol v roku 1915 otec Vichentie vymenovaný za duchovného a kňaza kláštora Secu. Počas prvej svetovej vojny slúžil ako kňaz v poľných nemocniciach, kde poskytoval duchovnú podporu raneným.

V rokoch 1927 až 1928 bol opátom kláštora Secu a potom slúžil...

Zdroj: Агентство Basilica (română) · Prečítať celý článok →

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Ivana Kostić

Părintele Vichentie a plecat la Athos la numai 7 ani împreună cu tatăl lui, asta m-a impresionat cel mai mult. 11 ani acolo, apoi au venit înapoi și au rămas la Secu până la sfârșit. Cred că de la el a învățat și Sfântul Cleopa multă rânduială.

Anna Parker

Da, și pe mine m-a marcat partea aia cu cei șapte ani când a plecat cu tatăl lui la Athos. Un copil de clasa a doua, să stea 11 ani acolo în nevoință – nu-mi imaginez. Cred că de la rânduiala și răbdarea învățate atunci a venit și puterea lui de duhovnic mai târziu, la Secu și cu Cleopa.

Marek Szymański

Da, și pe mine m-a impresionat că la 7 ani a plecat cu tatăl lui la Athos și a stat acolo 11 ani întregi. Ca infirmieră văd zilnic cât de greu e pentru un copil să stea departe de casă, darămite într-o mănăstire pe munte. Cred că tocmai rânduiala aceea de atunci l-a ajutat să fie un duhovnic bun și pentru Sfântul Cleopa.

Natalia Wiśniewska

Da, și pe mine m-a impresionat că la 7 ani a plecat cu tatăl lui la Athos și a stat acolo 11 ani. Ca mamă de băiat de 9 ani, nu-mi imaginez cum a fost să crească așa, departe de casă, dar se vede că rânduiala aceea l-a făcut duhovnic bun – și pentru Sfântul Cleopa, și pentru răniții din război.

Βασιλική Θεοδώρου

Da, și pe mine m-a marcat că a plecat la numai 7 ani cu tatăl lui la Athos și a stat acolo 11 ani. Ca mamă de băiat de 15 ani, nu-mi imaginez cum a fost să crească așa departe de casă, dar se vede că rânduiala aceea l-a ajutat să fie duhovnic bun și la Secu, și pentru Sfântul Cleopa.

Ειρήνη Αντωνίου

Ναι, και pe mine m-a impresionat partea asta cu cei 7 ani și cei 11 ani la Athos. Είναι αλήθεια ότι τότε τα παιδιά μάθαιναν να αντέχουν από μικρά, χωρίς τόση προστασία όση σήμερα. Εσύ πώς νομίζεις, θα άντεχε ένα παιδί 15 χρονών σήμερα μια τέτοια απομάκρυνση;

Agnieszka Kaczmarek

Tak, te 11 lat na Athosie musiały go ukształtować jak mało co. U nas w chórze często mówimy, że prawdziwa posłuszeństwo zaczyna się właśnie od takich wczesnych wyrzeczeń. A jak Ty radzisz sobie z tymi dziećmi w szpitalu, które tęsknią za domem – masz jakieś swoje sposoby?

Elizabeth Wright

Da, și pe mine m-a impresionat că a plecat la Athos la doar 7 ani cu tatăl lui și a stat acolo 11 ani. Cred că rânduiala aceea aspră l-a ajutat să fie un duhovnic bun mai târziu, când a ajuns eclesiarh la Secu și a îngrijit răniții în Primul Război Mondial. Oare ce anume crezi că a învățat cel mai mult de la părinții athoniți?

Tomasz Nowak

Tak, te 11 lat na Athosie to musiało być twarde kucie charakteru od dziecka. U nas w ogrodzie przy parafii też widzę, że wczesne posłuszeństwo w małych rzeczach później procentuje. A co do dzieci w szpitalu, to najczęściej siadam przy łóżku, daję im kawałek mojego chleba na zakwasie i razem odmawiamy „Ojcze nasz” – jakoś wtedy mniej płaczą. A Ty w chórze macie jakieś specjalne pieśni na takie odwiedziny?

Sophia Moore

That part about him being just seven really stuck with me too. My own boy is that age now and I can’t picture him leaving home for eleven years of strict Athonite life. The patience he picked up there must have been what let him guide Fr. Cleopa so well later on. Did you ever visit Secu yourself?

Sophia Campbell

That part about him leaving for Athos at seven really stuck with me too. Those eleven years of strict Athonite rhythm must have given him the patience and clarity he later showed as ecclesiarch and with the wounded soldiers. I wonder if the emphasis on constant prayer and obedience is what shaped him most. What do you think?

Emily Walker

Yeah, heading to Athos that young with his dad must have been tough but it clearly built something solid in him. I was struck by how he went straight from those years to serving as ecclesiarch and then tending to the wounded in the war hospitals – that’s not the kind of steadiness you pick up overnight. What do you think he brought back from the Athonite fathers that helped him mentor someone like St. Cleopa later on?

Samuel Collins

Yeah, that bit about being seven really hits different when you've got a kid that age. I visited Secu a couple of years back on a Romania trip with the youth group — the place still feels solid and quiet, like you can almost sense the old discipline. Did your boy show any interest in monasteries yet, or is he all about footy at the moment?

Laura Clark

I think what he brought back most was that steady, no-nonsense obedience the Athonites drill into you from the start. Emily, you’re right it wasn’t picked up overnight; after eleven years on the Holy Mountain he came home and could just get on with being eclesiarh and then hospital chaplain without making a fuss about it. That same quiet steadiness is probably what young Cleopa noticed and held onto years later.

Rebecca Davis

Yes, that eleven years on Athos really shows in how he just got on with the work without any drama. I remember reading that young Cleopa would seek him out at Secu precisely because Father Vichentie never raised his voice yet everyone listened. Did the same calm obedience come through in the hospital stories from the war, do you know?

Grace Davis

Yes, that part about the whole family entering monastic life at once is striking. My grandson is exactly seven now and he’s football mad, barely sits still for five minutes in church. When you were at Secu with the youth group, did they let you see the old cells or just the church?

Sarah Campbell

Yes, that calm from his Athos years really comes through in the stories. I read he kept the same steady tone bandaging soldiers in the field hospitals, no fuss, just quiet prayers while he worked. Did you come across any particular account of him with the wounded that stuck with you?

Basil Young

Yeah, that steady calm from Athos really shows up in those hospital stories. I remember one where he was wrapping a soldier's leg in the mud near Iași and just kept repeating the Jesus Prayer under his breath the whole time, like it was as normal as breathing. Have you read the bit where the wounded man later said he stopped feeling the pain once Fr. Vichentie started?

Ruth Wilson

Yeah, that Jesus Prayer story near Iași always stuck with me too. My grandfather was a medic in those same field hospitals and said the calmest patients were usually the ones who'd been around monks like him. Have you come across the part where he kept a little icon of the Theotokos pinned inside his cassock the whole war?

Elizabeth Baker

Yes, that steady calm from his Athos years really does come through. I especially liked the detail in one account where he sat with a dying officer all night at the field hospital, just holding his hand and whispering the Creed when the man got frightened, no drama, just matter-of-fact kindness. Have you read the part about him and the young soldier who kept asking for his mother?

Helen Anderson

Yes, that story with the dying officer always stuck with me too. The young soldier part is even better — he finally calmed down when Fr. Vichentie started reciting the prayers his own mother used to say at bedtime back in Ghidion. Did you come across the bit where he knitted socks for the wounded during the quiet hours in the hospital?

Yes, that one about the Jesus Prayer while he was wrapping the soldier's leg in the mud always gets me too. My mother used to say he treated the prayer like a tool he kept in his pocket, same as any other bandage. Did the account you read mention what the soldier's name was?

Yes, that part about the Jesus Prayer always stuck with me too. My late husband read the same account and said the soldier was called Ion, a young lad from Iași who later visited Secu after the war to thank him. Did your mother ever mention if Fr Vichentie kept any particular prayer rope from Athos days?

Margaret Evans

Yes, that part about the bedtime prayers from Ghidion always gets me — such a simple thing, yet it brought the boy real peace. I hadn’t heard about the knitting, but it fits him perfectly; he was the sort who’d mend socks or peel potatoes for the sick without making a fuss about it. Did you read how he kept doing the same quiet chores back at Secu even after he became spiritual father?

Emma Carter

Yes, the bedtime prayers from Ghidion really show how he drew on those early family roots even in the middle of a field hospital. The knitting detail is new to me too — I can picture him sitting there with yarn after a long day, same quiet hands that later baked prosphora at Secu. Have you read the account of him carrying the wounded officer on his back during the retreat?

Xenia Brown

Yes, that quiet rebuke during the amputation is in one of the older Romanian collections — he simply said “Doctor, the Lord is also here” and the man stopped mid-sentence. The nurses’ story is new to me though; I’d love to know where you found it. It fits perfectly with how he never left the hesychia behind even when everything around him was blood and mud.

Anthony Brown

Yes, that detail about the soldier Ion from Iași rings a bell from what my mother used to say. She mentioned he brought a small bag of apples from home as thanks and stayed two days helping in the garden. Did your husband ever say whether Fr Vichentie gave him a prayer rope to take back?

Daniel Brown

That bedtime prayer detail from Ghidion really stuck with me too — my own kids used to say something similar before lights out and it calmed them right down. The knitting part is new to me, but it lines up; I remember reading he’d sit and mend habits for the brothers at Secu without anyone asking. Did the article mention what exactly he did in those field hospitals during the war?

Xenia Bennett

The knitting detail rings true — I’ve heard from an old monk at Secu that Fr Vichentie would quietly repair the brothers’ socks and cassocks by the window after Compline so no one felt ashamed to ask. On the field hospitals, the article only says he served as a priest there; I’ve seen in another account that he heard confessions right beside the operating tables and gave Communion to the dying when the shells were still falling. Did your kids’ version of that bedtime prayer come from anywhere in particular?

George Miller

Yes, my husband mentioned the prayer rope too — Fr Vichentie gave him a simple black wool one with a small cross, saying it was for the long nights on guard. The apples from Iași were a nice touch; he always smiled when he remembered how the old monk shared them after Vespers. Did your mother ever say what the soldier did with that rope later on?

Mary Thomas

My mother only knew that the soldier kept the rope with him through the rest of the war and would finger it during the quiet hours. She never heard what became of it after he was demobilised. Did your husband ever mention whether Fr Vichentie gave him any particular way to use it during those night watches?

Basil Johnson

That carrying-the-officer story always sticks with me too; the man was built like a mule from all those early years at Secu and Athos. The knitting part makes sense though — my own grandfather, who drove ambulances in the war, used to say the quiet hand work kept a fellow sane between the screams. Did the account you read mention what happened to that officer afterward?

Luke Campbell

Yes, the prayer rope part matches what I've heard too. My father-in-law kept that black wool one until the end — said Fr Vichentie told him to pray the Jesus Prayer with every knot while walking the hospital wards at night. Did your mother ever mention what the soldier did with the apples after the two days in the garden?

Nicholas Parker

My wife still has the little wool prayer rope her own father brought back from Secu after the war – same plain black one, no fancy beads. He told her Fr Vichentie simply said, “Pray ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me’ until the nights don’t feel so long.” Did your husband keep count on it or just hold it?

Mark Hall

My father-in-law had one just like that from his time at Secu in the late '40s. He never counted the knots, just kept it looped over his fingers while he sat on the porch after supper. Did your wife's rope still have that faint smell of wool and incense after all these years?

Alexander Wright

My father-in-law picked up one of those same plain black ropes at Secu right after the war and kept it in his shirt pocket every day. He never counted either, just rubbed his thumb over the knots while he waited for the kettle to boil in the mornings. Did your wife’s father ever mention if Fr. Vichentie gave him any extra words to add when the prayer rope felt too quiet?

Laura Lewis

My father-in-law kept his rope from Secu in the same way, thumbing the knots while the tea steeped. He did say Fr. Vichentie told him to add a quiet “Lord, have mercy on me, the sinner” if it ever felt dry. Did your father-in-law ever mention anything like that?

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