IV. Хибарка ст. Амвросия в Оптинском скиту. – Старец Амвросий источник – утешений и учитель жизни. – Мысль об устройстве женской общины

What a gratifying impression his hut made - a witness to exploits, prayers and selfless love for one’s neighbor! How joyfully your heart will beat when, walking through the dark pine forest of the monastery, you see the monastery bell tower at the end of the path, and on the right side the wretched cell of a humble ascetic! How light your soul is when you sit in this cramped and stuffy shack and how light it seems in its mysterious half-light! How many people came here, shedding bitter tears of sorrow, and left with tears of joy, desperate ones - consoled and encouraged, unbelievers and doubters - faithful children of the church. Here lived the “father” - the source of so many blessings and consolations. Neither a person’s title nor his fortune had any meaning in his eyes; he only needed the person’s soul, which was so dear to him that, forgetting himself, he tried with all his might to save it and put it on the true path. From morning to evening, the old man, depressed by illness, received visitors, serving each according to their needs; his words were always accepted with faith and were the law, his blessing, or special attention was considered a special happiness, and those worthy of this left him, being baptized and thanking God for the consolation received. I had to wait a long time for a separate lesson with the elder; Some became despondent and began to grumble, thinking that the elder did not want to accept them and that they were wasting time waiting in vain, but the elder, noticing their cowardice, accepted them and consoled them, so that they later regretted their impatience. Often Father came out for a general blessing: one of the cell attendants first appeared and closed all the windows, since Father, due to his illness, could not stand the draft wind, then all those sitting rose from their places and stood on both sides, leaving a large space for passage. Finally, the cherished door opened, and a venerable old man appeared on the threshold in a white cassock, on top of which he always wore a fur caftan, and on his head a cotton wool cap. Coming out of the door and stopping on the step, he always prayed before the icon of the Mother of God, “It is worthy to eat,” and then walked further, blessing right and left; thousands of questions rained down on him from the crowd, he listened to everything carefully and gave wise answers. “Father,” someone asks, “how can you bless me to live?” And Father will say: “Don’t bother living, don’t judge anyone, don’t annoy anyone, but my respect to everyone,” or else: “Live to do good, avoid all evil, so that ours too will be lucky someday.” So simply but clearly he set out the necessary rules for the life of a Christian. Sometimes Father sat down, and then everyone present knelt around him, listening with deep attention to his stories or some story, the meaning of which contained useful moral teaching, or an exposure of someone’s shortcomings; most often he offered advice on patience, condescension towards the weaknesses of one’s neighbor and forcing oneself to do good, saying that the Kingdom of God is necessary. Sometimes these instructive conversations, or general blessings, were overtaken by an hour of rest, and the cell attendant reminded him of this; then Father took off his cap, bowed and said: “I am very grateful to you for your visit; O. Isaiah says it's time"; and another time the cell attendant will say: “Father, it’s already two o’clock,” and Father will answer: “You move them back and it will be an hour” - this meant that Father intended to say something else that would be beneficial. In the summer, on hot days, Father came out into the air to bless, and his appearance was a true joy for everyone who was languishing in anticipation; from the porch itself there were poles (railings), on one side of which the people stood, and on the other side the bent Elder walked, stopping from time to time and giving answers. “Father,” one asked, “where will you bless me: to get married or to a monastery?” “Where do you have more advantage,” answered Father. Sometimes he decided directly. There were also cases when two young girls came: one asked to enter the monastery, the other wanted to get married, but Father decided their fate the other way around, and both of them were very happy. On the contrary, there are many examples that, having not done with his blessing, they came with tears of repentance, since there was no luck in their affairs, and some even went crazy. Thus, apparently, someone’s fate was decided in passing, important issues were resolved, but always, with the blessing of the gracious Elder, it turned out well, and the decision turned out to be wise and correct. How many Christian souls, but far from the Orthodox Church, did he convince to recognize St. the Orthodox faith, the only true and holy one, and was rewarded for his labors and consoled by their heartfelt conversion and acceptance of Orthodoxy. They also brought to him many sick people of all kinds, but out of his humility he never read special prayers over them, but sent them to the relics of St. saints, or to miraculous icons, or simply prescribed to take some medicinal herb, and the sick, who had spent a lot of money on skilled doctors, taking with faith the herb or water prescribed by the Elder, received complete healing from their illness, having deep gratitude in their hearts, and understood that it was not the herb, but the power of the prayers of St. They performed a miracle on the elder. But Father really didn’t like it when they directly told him that he had healed, or asked about it. So one day a person arrived who suffered greatly from her throat; the best doctors who treated her admitted their powerlessness to help her. In such a hopeless situation, unable to take any food, she came to Father. One nun she knew, turning to him, said: “Father, heal her.” The elder became very angry and drove the nun away, but the sick man ordered him to take oil from the lamp and anoint his throat, saying: “The Queen of Heaven will heal you.” Having carried out the Elder’s order with faith and returned to her room, the patient felt that she could swallow, and since then her illness has not recurred. Father could not go to church, or anywhere, and every two weeks he received the Holy Mysteries in his cell. On holidays, he always had home all-night vigils, or “vigils,” the hieromonk and five or six people of the monastery brethren performed these prayers; simple desert singing, the quiet, mysterious half-light from the lamp in front of the wonderful face of the Mother of God, to Whom Father loved to resort so much - all this made an inexpressible impression in the soul. Here I remembered the cell of St. Sergius, his prayerful sighs, from which the very air trembled. Its numerous visitors did not consist of just ordinary people who came several thousand miles to receive one blessing from “Father Abrosim,” as they called him. Various people flocked to him, the rich, the poor, the illiterate, the learned and, finally, important dignitaries came, wanting to enjoy his conversation and receive his blessing. So in 1887, His Imperial Highness Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich visited Optina Pustyn and the cell of the Elder. In addition, many monastics, both male and female monasteries, belonged to Father Ambrose. These daily activities with visitors and extensive correspondence with those who were absent brought him to extreme exhaustion. “You need it, but I don’t have time; there are many of you, but I am alone,” was often heard as an answer to a request to take something to do. And then there was more worry and work: the organization of a women's community for those who wanted to devote themselves to monastic life and be close to the leadership of the Elder. It is known that in almost all women's monasteries they are accepted only with a contribution, or on their full support, as a result of which, of course, it was very difficult for the weak and sickly, and even more so for the completely sick, incapable of work and the poor, to get into the monastery. It was about these and such that Fr.’s heart ached. Ambrose.