Сила молитвы

It is impossible to remain silent about what was said by our dear father, Fr. John a fact (about himself and the power of prayer), published in an essay from the newspaper “Den” (1900, pp. 17–19): “Fr. John Ilyich Sergiev of Kronstadt, Archpriest of St. Andrew's Cathedral"; compiled by N.N. Zhivotov. From the memories of. John of Kronstadt about his childhood. From early childhood, as soon as I remember being 4–5 years old, or maybe less, my parents taught me to pray and, by their own example, made me a religiously minded boy. My father, the clerk of the village of Sursky, Pinezhsky district, Arkhangelsk province, constantly took me to church, and with all my soul I fell in love with public worship, and especially good singing. At home in my sixth year, my father bought me the alphabet; but reading and writing was difficult for me, and I grieved a lot over my lack of development. I could not in any way grasp the identity between our speech and writing, or a book, between sound and letter. Yes, this was not taught at that time with such clarity as it is now; we were taught: Az, Buki, Lead, as if “A” was on its own, Az on its own. For a long time I could not understand this wisdom, and when I was taken to the Arkhangelsk parish school in my tenth year, I had difficulty sorting through the warehouses, and only the printed ones. My father received, of course, the most insignificant allowance; life was terribly difficult. I already understood the difficult situation of my parents and therefore, my darkness in teaching was a particularly heavy burden for me. I cared little about the significance of the teaching for my future and only grieved that I had paid my last crumbs in vain, and the teachers tried in vain to explain the lessons to me. In Arkhangelsk, far from my homeland and loved ones, I was left completely alone, without any leaders and had to figure out everything on my own. And so, as I remember now, one day it was already evening; Everyone went to bed, only I couldn’t sleep; I still didn’t read well and didn’t understand anything that was said. Such melancholy attacked me, I fell to my knees and began to pray fervently. I don’t know how long I stayed in this position; but suddenly it seemed to shake me all over... It was as if a veil had fallen from my eyes, as the mind opened up in my head, and the teacher of that day and his lesson clearly appeared to me; I remembered what he was talking about. And my soul felt light and joyful. I have never slept so peacefully as I did that night. It got a little light, I jumped out of bed, grabbed my books and - oh happiness! I read much easier, I understand everything; and what I read, I not only understood everything, even though I can tell you now. I didn’t sit in class the same way as before; everything remained in my memory. The teacher gave me an arithmetic problem, I solved it, and they even praised me. In a word, in a short time I improved so much that I was no longer the last student. The further I went, the better and better I did in the sciences, and by the end of the course I was one of the first to be transferred to the seminary.