Глава XI. Особые проявления благодатной силы Божией в старце о. Амвросии

And I said: My grace is sufficient for you; for My power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Cor. 12:9) Everyone who knew Father Fr. Ambrose unanimously speak of his inherent gift of clairvoyance. There were no secrets for him. A stranger could come to him and remain silent, but he knew his life and its circumstances, his state of mind and why he came here. Father Ambrose questioned his visitors, but to an attentive person, by the way and what questions he posed, it was clear that the priest knew the matter. So, one day a young man from the bourgeoisie came up to him with his arm in a sling and began to complain that he could not cure it. The elder had another monk and several laymen. Before he had time to finish: “Everything hurts, it hurts a lot,” the elder interrupted him: “And it will hurt, why did you offend your mother?” Kaluga's Eminence Macarius conveyed the following about himself. When he was still a lay priest, a teacher of the law at the Oryol Institute of Noble Maidens, he, together with the rector of the Oryol Theological Seminary, had to visit Elder Ambrose in Optina Hermitage. After talking with the guests, the elder gave them both a book with the same content, specifically about monasticism. “I, as a priest,” said the bishop, “then thought: why do I need such a book?” And the elder, as if coming to his senses, said: “Yes, you wouldn’t do that,” but then added: “Well, yes, so be it.” After becoming a widower, the former priest and teacher of the law, as is known, became a monk. Hieromonk Dorofey of Optina Hermitage said that one day he came to the elder and waited a long time for his reception. It was already ten o'clock in the evening. He sits and thinks: “Everyone calls the elder a saint. And what kind of holiness is it when it makes you wait so long for its release. Because of this, I will have to omit the evening rule and sleep through the morning. It will be a sin for everyone." Suddenly at that moment he hears the voice of an elder from his cell: “Now, now!” Looks, the priest comes out. Having blessed him, he takes him by the beard and, lightly hitting him on the cheek, says: “Here, nuns sometimes live in a hotel for a month, waiting until I have to accept them. Another, perhaps, has come a thousand miles away and is also patient and waiting. They need to be released forward. Because of them, I sometimes refuse admission to the brethren. I can't accept everyone at once. And you don’t even want to wait a little! It will be a sin for me alone for all!” Enlightened by the words of the elder, Fr. Dorotheus, calm and joyful, went from him to his cell and never again dared to grumble at him, even if sometimes he had to wait for a long time for his exit. Father Hieromonk V. told the following about himself: “After completing the course at the Smolensk Theological Seminary, I took the place of priest in the village. Chebotov, Dorogobuzh district. My name was Viktor Dyakonov. Soon my wife fell ill, apparently, however, not dangerously. At this time, a wanderer came into our house, who was on his way to Optina Pustyn. I sent a ruble of money with him to give to Father Fr. Ambrose, asking him to pray for the sick woman. When the wanderer arrives at the monastery, the elder, when meeting with him, asks him: “Will you go back the same way?” He replies: “The same.” - “Go again to Father Victor,” the priest tells him, “and thank him that he remembers me. Say that I haven’t forgotten him either.” I would like to note that, while still a student in the secondary department of the seminary, I visited Fr. Ambrose personally at the blessing. Having entered the priesthood, he always remembered him at the proskomedia. The elder remembered this. “A feat awaits him,” the elder continued. “Let him grow the garden and water it more often, there will be a lot of fruit. July will be a mournful month for him; we will see him.” On July 29 of the same year, my wife died, and I went to Optina Pustyn. I came to the elder, and he gave me a rosary and the book “The Royal Way of the Cross of the Lord” and ordered me to prepare for the monastic rank - to sell all the belongings that I had and submit a petition to the bishop for dismissal due to illness, which I did. Arriving then at the priest’s monastery, I was soon tonsured into the mantle.” The same hieromonk V. spoke about another graduate of the Smolensk Theological Seminary course, Pavel Semenovich Sokolov. After graduating from the seminary, he took the place of a village teacher and several times personally asked Elder Ambrose for his blessing to enter the priesthood. But the priest always rejected his request, advising him to wait. Two years passed like this. Pavel Semenovich again addressed the priest in writing, expressing his desire to take the place of a priest in the city of Vyazma. This time the elder answered him: “A crown of thorns hangs above you, and soon it will descend on you - wait.” And so it happened. Two months later, Pavel Semenovich fell ill and died. Monk I. told about himself: “While in the world, I was married, but four years later I was widowed. At this time, my brother went to Optina to visit Elder Ambrose, and I wanted to find out through my brother how the Elder would bless me to live. Having returned, my brother conveyed to me the elder’s answer: “Let the boy wait a year to get married and come to us.” I thought: “Do they want to make me a monk?” At that time I had no intention of entering a monastery. A year passed, and I entered into a second marriage without first visiting Optina and without receiving the elder’s blessing for this. But three and a half months passed, and my second wife died. Two months after this I went to Optina. I come to the old man. He says to me: "Come here. Where is your wife? Why didn't you listen to me?" I answer: “Excuse me, father! So I came to ask you whether I should get married or enter a monastery?” The priest said to this: “There is no third marriage. Your direct duty is to remain in the monastery and be a monk.” After that, I returned home, and two months later I completely arrived in Optina and joined the monastery at the monastery.” According to the skete monk G., there was a monk in the skete, hieromonk Fr. Palladium. He once served liturgy in the skete church on Sunday, feeling healthy. But on the same day the priest sends a cell attendant to him and orders him to immediately become distinguished and take monastic vows. Father Palladius was very surprised by this and told the cell attendant that he was healthy. The priest sent his cell attendant to him a second and third time with the same offer, but he continued to refuse. Monday came. On the morning of this day, the priest for the fourth and last time sends to Fr. Palladia the cell attendant again with the same proposal. But while he was making preparations for the unction, he suffered a stroke. However, although he lost his tongue, he was still in his memory. They managed to distinguish him and give him Holy Communion. On the evening of the same day he died. Monk Gennady told about himself: “I was greatly embarrassed by blasphemous thoughts. On this occasion I came to Father Fr. Ambrose late in the evening - it was already dark. The priest went out into the corridor and began to bless the brethren, who were on their knees, one by one. Fits me too. He couldn’t see my face in the darkness, but suddenly, turning to me, he said: “What are you doing?” And he began to stroke my face with his hand, as if washing away the dirt from it, and then blessed me without telling me anything. But I suddenly felt that my soul became light. Blasphemous thoughts departed from me, and joy filled my heart.” A remarkable incident was told about herself by the nun of the Belevsky Monastery, Varvara Engelhardt: “In 1875, my brother, having completed a course at the Mikhailovsky Artillery School, entered the service as an officer in the artillery. Then, two years later, in 1877, he was assigned to the active army against the Turks. At that time he was about 20 years old. I myself was then in the Zosimovskaya hermitage in the Vereisky district of the Moscow province. One day I received a letter from one of my brother’s comrades, in which he told me the terrible news that my brother had shot himself. In terrible grief, I went to Optina Pustyn to see Elder Ambrose. I come to him all in tears and tell him everything. Father tried to console me as best he could. To my question: “Can I pray for my brother?” – the priest answered that the Church does not pray for suicides, but that he would give me a prayer with which I could privately pray for my brother. I come to him the next day. Father greets me joyfully and announces that my brother is alive and well. To my question: “Will I see him?” – the priest answered that I would find out about him in ten years. Father's prediction came true. After 10 years, I received a letter from America from my brother, who informed me that he was alive and well and asked my forgiveness for not giving any news about himself for so long.” One of the elder’s devoted spiritual daughters, A. A. Shishkova, reported about herself: “On one of my visits to the elder, he blessed me with the book “The Royal Way of the Cross of the Lord, Leading into Eternal Life,” adding: “Read it often.” I told him: “You already gave me such a book last time.” - “Have you read it?” - the old man objected. “It seems like I read it,” was my answer. - “That’s what it seems; without unwrapping it, she gave it as a gift.” Then I remembered that this is exactly what I did, and asked for forgiveness. Father, with his usual kindness, handing me the book again, said: “Read this more often.” The same A. A. Shishkova, Father Fr. Ambrose, seven years before the death of the granddaughters of M. Ambrosia Klyuchareva, clearly pointed out this event. When she, on Klyuchareva’s instructions, asked the elder for permission to hire a French woman for the girls, he replied: “No, don’t do that; Children don't need a French girl. I placed an excellent, pious Russian person with them, who will instruct them and prepare them for the future life. Do you know, the children will not live, and in their place in the estate there will be prayer books for them. Just don’t tell M. Ambrosia this.” One day two sisters came to visit an old man from St. Petersburg. The youngest is a bride in a cheerful mood; the eldest is quiet, thoughtful, and pious. One asks for blessings to marry, and the other to enter a monastery. The elder hands the bride a rosary, and says to the eldest: “Which monastery? You will get married, but not at home; Here's what you need! - and named the province where they had never gone. Both return to the capital. The bride finds out that the groom cheated on her. This made a terrible change in her, because her affection was deep. She comprehended the vanity of what had previously occupied her, her thoughts turned to God, and soon she entered a monastery. Meanwhile, the eldest received a letter from a distant province from a forgotten aunt, a pious woman who lived next door to the convent. She called her to take a closer look at the life of nuns. But it turned out differently: while living with her aunt, her niece met a man, no longer young, very similar in character to her, and married him. A poor tradeswoman was wooed by a rich merchant for her beauty. And the old man says to his mother: “Your groom must be refused.” The mother jumped up. - “What are you doing, father? Yes, we never dreamed of such a thing; God sent it to the orphan, and you refused.” And the priest answered: “Refuse this, I have another groom for your daughter, better than this.” - “Which one do we need better? Shouldn’t she marry the prince?” - interprets his mother. “My fiancé is such a great one that it’s hard to say; refuse the merchant." The merchant was refused, and the girl fell ill and died. Then they understood what kind of groom the elder was talking about. A young peasant from the Tikhonova Hermitage, near Kaluga, decided to get married because his old mother was weak and there were no other women in the house. He went to the elder for the Feast of the Assumption, and he advised him to wait until the Intercession. Meanwhile, the mother was very dissatisfied with the elder’s advice. Came to the Intercession; and the priest says: “Wait until Baptism, then we’ll see.” The old woman was very upset, the little one had no peace from her: “The old man is just confusing, there’s no time to idle.” The little one came to the elder at Epiphany and announced that he could not stand his mother’s abuse. And the priest answered him: “I’m afraid that you won’t listen to me; and my advice is that you don’t need to get married, just wait.” The peasant left and got married, and two months after the wedding he died. One of the residents of Kozelsk, named Kapiton, had an only son, an adult young man, dexterous and handsome. His father decided to give him away and brought him to the elder to receive his blessing for his planned business. They are both sitting in the corridor, and there are several monks near them. The old man comes out to them. Kapiton, having received the blessing with his son, explains that he wants to give his son to the people. The elder approves of the intention and advises his son to go to Kursk. Kapiton begins to challenge the elder. “In Kursk,” he says, “we have no acquaintances; and bless, father, to Moscow.” The elder replies in a joking tone: “Moscow hits from the toe and beats with boards; let him go to Kursk.” But Kapiton still did not listen to the elder and sent his son to Moscow, where he soon entered a good position. The owner to whom he arrived had some kind of building under construction at that time. Suddenly several boards fell from above, which crushed both of the young man’s legs. His father was immediately notified of this by telegram. With bitter tears he came to the elder to tell about his grief. But this grief could no longer be helped. A sick son was brought from Moscow. He was ill for a long time, and although the wounds closed, he remained crippled for the rest of his life, incapable of any work. One skete brother asked Elder Ambrose to bless him to go to Athos. Father, according to his custom, tells him jokingly: “If you go to Athos, you will be Agathon.” For a long time this brother wandered through monasteries and finally died in the Tikhonova Hermitage, having been tonsured into the mantle with the name Agathon before his death. Another monk reported: “My relative, an old girl, came to Optina Pustyn to pray and ask Father Ambrose what she should do: should she enter a monastery or live at home with a family? Father replied: “Go home, father will buy you some kind of barn, put it in the garden, and you will live.” When she returned home, her father greeted her and said: “I bought a barn for you, I’ll put it in the garden, and you’ll live there, like in a monastery.” On August 6, 1883, a woman from Belevsky district came to Optina and tried to see Fr. Ambrose, but due to the crowds she could not get through to the hut where Fr. received women. Ambrose. Finally, she found a fellow monk and asked him to ask the priest how he told her to pray for her son - for health or for peace? She had an adult son, deaf and stupid, so he could not ask for bread for himself. In Kazanskaya, on July 8, he went to the village church and disappeared: he was not found either in the forest or anywhere around. The elder replied: “Why remember the repose; we need to remember about his health - he will be found!.. Perhaps they will bring him soon.” Then the priest added: “Son, son, how is she living? Let her change her life!” When these words of the elder were conveyed to the woman, she began to sob and confessed to a grave sin... Her son, indeed, was found a short time later in Odoevsky district. In 1874, one young clerk from the city of B. was going to go to Moscow to look for a place there, but first he stopped by to visit Father Fr. Ambrose to ask for advice and blessings. Father received him and said: “Not everyone should live in Moscow, but go to Voronezh.” - “But I don’t have anyone I know there!” – the young man responded. - “Nothing, you’ll meet!” - said the priest. With the blessing of the elder, he went to Voronezh, lived there for a week and, not finding a place, bitterly headed back. Having reached Tula, he stopped at a hotel and here he met a Voronezh flour merchant, who hired him into his service. Three years later he got married and now continues to live in the Voronezh province and conducts a large trade in bread. The widow of the archpriest asked for advice: should she marry her son, who has completed his seminary course, or should he continue to study further? The elder gave his blessing to continue teaching. But they didn’t listen to the advice. Seduced by a good place, a rich and beautiful bride, the seminarian took the place of a priest. However, he was not happy for long. His family life was very sad, and 7 years later he died of consumption in his parents’ house. Priest S. told about one priest he knew that, while still a young man, he decided to marry his second cousin. His father, a pious old priest, did not approve of the marriage with a relative and did not give his blessing. The mothers of the bride and groom, on the contrary, really wanted this marriage. In view of the disagreement, it was decided to seek advice from the then still living Elder Ambrose. They wrote him a letter in which they outlined all the circumstances of the case and asked for his blessing for the proposed marriage. The elder replied: “You can marry according to church rules, but the marriage will be unhappy.” The mothers, who really wanted to arrange this marriage, did not pay attention to the last words of the answer and even said: “The elder is not a prophet, but he himself writes that you can get married, so what else should you think about!” The marriage took place. The young husband soon received a position as a public teacher and left with his wife for his place of service. Some time passed, and the wife was about to become a mother. At this time, an inspector of public schools arrived at the school for an audit and demanded the removal of the teacher’s wife from the school premises. Not knowing what to do, the teacher finally decided to send his wife to the city, to the zemstvo hospital, where she was mistakenly admitted to the department for infectious patients. Here, before her eyes, a woman sick with typhus died from childbirth. All this shocked her so much that she went into acute insanity, during which she gave birth to a healthy baby. From then on, she never regained full consciousness. At times she felt better, but once a month there was always a recurring fit of violence, during which she had to be strictly watched so that she did not harm herself or others. And then one day (at that time some pyrotechnician lived in their apartment), when the patient was carelessly left alone in the house, she took a bottle of gunpowder that was in the pyrotechnician’s room and threw it into the burning stove. There was a terrible explosion. The house collapsed. The patient was seriously injured by the debris of the house. Subsequently, the husband of this unfortunate woman accepted the priesthood and, remembering the elder’s prediction and his disobedience, patiently bore his heavy cross, seeing in it the special action of God’s Providence, leading him through sorrows to salvation. One nun conceived for the sake of Father Fr. Ambrose to move from the rich monastery of the Western Territory to the poor Shamordino Kazan community. But then fear attacked her: what would happen to her after her father’s death? With such thoughts, she came to the hut for the blessing and stood there behind everyone. Suddenly the priest, as if answering her doubts, said: “Remember that the elders do not leave their abodes even after their death.” These words from the priest completely calmed her down. The following incident happened with another Shamorda sister. She needed to turn to the elder for clarification of some important issues of her inner life. This was the Dormition Fast, in the last year of his life. There were a lot of people. The elder was very tired, and she, not hoping to get to a conversation with him, wrote him a letter. Two days later she was with the elder, and he gave complete answers to all points of her letter, remembering himself what else was written there. The sister left the elder comforted and reassured, not suspecting, however, what a miracle of the elder’s foresight had happened over her. In October, the elder died, and six weeks later, while sorting out his cell papers, they found an unopened letter addressed to him; since the envelope also had an inscription on who it was from, it was returned as it belonged. Imagine that sister’s surprise when she saw that very letter of hers, which she wrote during the Assumption Fast and to which she then received such detailed answers, unopened. The former Kashira abbess Tikhona tells. “After the death of the elder Fr. Macarius, the orphaned Belevskaya convent, in the person of the abbess, Abbess Pavlina and the sisters, began to relate to the two closest disciples of the deceased elder - Hieroschemamonks Ambrose and Hilarion. Writing the following story about the elder Fr. Ambrosia first referred her spiritual needs to Fr. Hilarion, and after his death she devoted herself to complete obedience to the elder Fr. Ambrose. This story was written down by her back in 1870, when she was not yet the spiritual daughter of the elder Fr. Ambrose, and therefore all the more reliable is her impartial attitude towards the wondrous foresight of the elder, which then amazed the entire Belevsky monastery. In the 70s, two elderly sisters, Paraskeva and Maria, were admitted to the ranks of the sisters. They were originally from the Oryol bourgeoisie; they were called “Orlovskys,” which is why their surname was not known to the sisters of the monastery. At that time, Abbess Pavlina of Belev began construction of the church; on this matter, she traveled more than once to St. Petersburg to see His Eminence Bishop Nikander, who was summoned to appear in the Holy Synod. During one of her absences, her elder sister, Paraskeva Orlovskaya, fell ill with inflammation; on the third day she died, and due to the absence of the Mother Superior, she was not tonsured into the mantle, as had always been done in the Belevsky Monastery. For the surviving younger sister, Maria, this incident was very sad; she shed bitter tears and with her sorrow went to Optina to see Father Fr. Ambrose. The elder consoled her, reassured her about the fate of her deceased sister, and cited for consolation an example from the Kyiv Patericon, where it is written about a monk who received tonsure from the invisible hand of the Angel of God. Maria began to feel calmer about her sister's death. Her thoughts and concerns turned to repairing and straightening the cell, which required repairs, and at the general blessing of the elder she spoke to him and asked for blessings on this matter, but the priest, in front of everyone (and there were many Belevskys here), answered her: “Don’t worry about the cell: your cell is a coffin with three boards! Make every effort to transition to the afterlife.” And turning to the Belevsky sisters, who were also singers, he told them: “Stay to confess; we need to let you go home quickly to bury Masha!” They returned home very soon and, to the question of the Belevsky sisters: “Why did you come so soon?” - they said that the priest hastened to send them for the funeral of Maria Orlovskaya, who, full of strength and health, remained with the blessing of the elder for another week in Optina. She was ordered to talk and prepare to be tonsured into the mantle, and together to be distinguished and partake of the Holy Mysteries. Mary obeyed unquestioningly the will of the elder. He himself tonsured her with the renaming of the name Marionilla and, when sending her to Belev, he wrote in his own hand to Mother Abbess Pavlina that he found it necessary to tonsure Mary and asked for forgiveness for doing so without communicating with the abbess about this in advance. Maria returned completely healthy; It’s understandable how the sisters greeted her, amazed at the advance notice of her impending death. So what?.. After arriving, introducing myself to M. The abbess, having given her the elder’s letter and asking forgiveness for everything that had happened to her, she returned to her cell. That same night she fell ill with inflammation of the brain, was without memory for three days, and on the fourth she died peacefully, calmly, as if she had fallen asleep. Mary’s death made a striking impression on everyone then.” The now famous priest of the village of Spas-Chekryak, Oryol province, Fr. Georgy Kossov. “When I arrived at my parish, I was taken aback: what should I do here?! There is nothing to live in, nothing to serve in! The house is old, old; church - if you go to serve, the next thing you know - it will crush you. There is almost no income - the parishioners are removed from both the church and the clergy. The people are poor; We can barely feed ourselves. What was I supposed to do here? I was a young priest at that time, inexperienced, and also in very weak health, coughing blood. My mother was an orphan, poor, without any dowry. Therefore, there was no support either from here or here, and I also had younger brothers in my arms. All that's left is to run. That's what I planned. At that time, the glory of Father Ambrose was great. The Optinskaya Hermitage is about sixty versts from us. Somehow during the summer - a sleepless night - I was tired of my thoughts before dawn; knapsack by the shoulders, and went to wave him off for a blessing: I should leave the parish. At about four o'clock in the afternoon I was already in Optina. Father did not know me either by sight or by hearing. I come to his “shack” and there are already tons of people there: they are waiting for the priest to come out. I also began to wait on the sidelines. I look - he comes out right through everyone and beckons me to him: “What are you planning to do there, priest? Abandon the parish? Eh? Do you know - Who appoints priests? And you - abandon it?! The church, you see, it’s old, it’s starting to collapse... And you build a new one, big, stone, and warm, and so that the floors in it are made of wood: they will bring the sick, so that they will be warm. Go, Priest, go home, and get the nonsense out of your head... Remember: build a church, as I tell you, go, priest, God will bless you!” But I didn’t have any priestly sign on me. I couldn't say a word. I went home right away. I go and think: what is this? Should I build a stone church? You almost die of hunger at home, but here you have to build a church. Cleverly consoles, there is nothing to say. I came home and somehow got rid of my wife’s questions: well, what was she supposed to say?! He only said that the elder did not bless him to ask for a transfer. What was going on in my soul then, it seems, cannot be conveyed... An overwhelming melancholy came over me. I want to pray, but prayer doesn’t come to mind. I don’t even talk to people, my wife. I began to think. And I began to hear both at night and during the day, more at night, some strange voices: “Go away,” they say, “quickly! You are alone, but there are many of us! Where can you fight us! We will drive you away completely from the light!..” A hallucination, it must be... Well, whatever it was, it only got to the point that not only was there no more prayer in me, blasphemous thoughts began to creep into my head... And night comes, - there is no sleep, and some the force began to throw me straight out of bed onto the floor, and not in a dream, but directly in reality, it lifted me up and threw me out of bed onto the floor. And the voices are getting worse, more menacing, more insistent: “Go, get away from us!” I was horrified, almost losing my mind from the fears I had endured, and again rushed to Fr. Ambrose. Father Ambrose saw me directly, without asking me anything, and said to me: - Well, why were you afraid, priest? He is one, and there are two of you. “How is this so,” I say, “father?” - Christ God and you - that’s where two come out. But there is only one enemy. “Go home,” he says, “don’t be afraid of anything in advance, but the church, the church is big, made of stone, and don’t forget to build it to be warm.” God bless you! With that I left. When I come home, it’s as if a mountain has been lifted from my heart. And all insurance disappeared from me. Here I began to pray to God. In the church you will place a lectern for yourself behind the left choir in front of the icon of the Queen of Heaven, light a lamp, light a candle, and begin to read the canon to Her alone in the church. I began to add some other prayers. I see, after a week or two, one came to church, stood in a corner, and prayed to God with me, there was another, a third, and then the whole church began to be full." Let's add to this that now Fr. George, a large stone church, a hospice, shelters, and schools were built under his care; and pilgrims come to him from all over Russia for advice, blessing, prayer and consolation. Another amazing incident. An iconostasis master from K. reported the following: “Shortly before the death of the elder, about two years old, I had to go to Optina to get money. We made an iconostasis there, and I had to receive quite a large sum of money from the rector for this work. I received my money and before leaving I went to Elder Ambrose to get his blessing for the return journey. I was in a hurry to go home: I was expecting to receive a large order the next day - ten thousand, and the customers were sure to be with me the next day in K. On this day, the old man, as usual, suffered death. He found out about me that I was waiting, and he ordered me to tell him through my cell attendant that I should come to him in the evening to drink tea. Although I had to hurry to the court, the honor and joy of being with the old man and drinking tea with him was so great that I decided to postpone my trip until the evening, in full confidence that even though I would travel all night, I would get there on time. Evening came, I went to the elder. The old man received me so cheerfully, so joyfully, that I didn’t even feel the ground beneath me. Father, our angel, held me for quite a long time, it was almost dark, and he said to me: “Well, go with God. Spend the night here, and tomorrow I bless you to go to mass, and after mass, come and see me for tea.” “How is this so?” - I think. Yes, I did not dare to contradict the elder. I spent the night, was at mass, went to the elder to drink tea, but I myself grieved for my customers and kept thinking: maybe I’ll at least have time to get to K by evening. How could it not be so! We took a sip of tea. I want to say to the elder: “Bless me to go home,” but he didn’t let me utter a word. “Come,” he says, “to spend the night with me.” My legs even gave way, but I don’t dare object. The day has passed, the night has passed! The next morning I was already bolder and I thought: I wasn’t there, and today I’ll leave; Maybe one day my customers were waiting for me. Where are you going? And the elder did not let me open my mouth. “Go,” he says, “to the all-night vigil today, and tomorrow to mass. Spend the night with me again today!” What a parable this is! At this point I was completely saddened and, to admit, I sinned against the elder: what a seer! He doesn’t know for sure that, by his grace, a profitable business has now slipped out of my hands. And I was so uneasy about the elder that I can’t tell you. I had no time for prayer that time at the all-night vigil - it just pushed me into my head: here’s your elder! Here's a seer for you!.. Now your earnings are whistling... Oh, how annoying I was at that time! And my old man, as if it were a sin, well, just like that, God forgive me, as a mockery of me, he greets me so joyfully after the all-night vigil!.. I felt bitter, offended: and why, I think, is he rejoicing... But I still don’t dare to express my sorrow out loud. I spent the night in this manner for the third night. During the night, my grief gradually subsided: you can’t turn back what was floating, but it floated away through your fingers... The next morning I come from mass to the elder, and he told me: “Well, now it’s time for you to go to the court! Go with God! God bless! And don’t forget to thank God in time!..” And then all sorrow fell away from me. I left Optina Hermitage, but my heart was so light and joyful that it’s impossible to describe... Why did the priest say this: “Don’t forget to thank God in time!” I think it must be because the Lord deigned to visit the church for three days in a row. I drive home slowly and don’t think about my customers at all: I was very pleased that my father treated me like that. I arrived home, and what would you think? I am at the gate, and my customers are behind me; We were late, which means we were against our agreement to come for three days. Well, I think: “Oh, my gracious old man! Truly, your works are wondrous, O Lord!..” However, that’s not how it all ended. Just listen to what happened next! Quite a bit has passed since then. Our father Ambrose died. Two years after his righteous death, my senior master fell ill. He was a person I trusted, and he was not a worker, but simply gold. He lived with me hopelessly for more than twenty years. Sick to death. We sent for a priest to confess and give communion while we still remember. Only, I see, the priest comes to me from the dying man and says: “The sick man is calling you to his place, he wants to see you. Hurry up, lest he die.” I came to the patient, and when he saw me, he somehow stood up on his elbows, looked at me and began to cry: “Forgive my sin, master! I wanted to kill you...” - What are you saying, God bless you! You're delusional... - No, master, he really wanted to kill you. Remember, you were three days late arriving from Optina. After all, there are three of us, by my agreement, for three nights in a row, we watched for you on the road under the bridge; They were jealous of the money you brought for the iconostasis from Optina. You wouldn’t have been alive at that time, but the Lord, for someone’s prayers, took you away from death without repentance... Forgive me, the accursed one, let me go, for God’s sake, in peace my darling. - God forgive you, as I forgive you! Then my patient wheezed and began to come to an end. The Kingdom of Heaven to his darling! Great was the sin, but great was the repentance!” A remarkable case occurred with K. N. Leontyev, 71 who then lived in Optina Pustyn. After the elder moved to Shamordino, he decided to leave there. In August 1891, two months before the death of the elder, he came to him in Shamordino and, having received his blessing to move to Sergievsky Posad, said goodbye to him. The elder blessed him with special love and said: “I’ll see you soon.” K. N. Leontyev did not at first attach much importance to these words, but when, two months later, he learned about the death of the elder, he became excited and began to say: “That means I will soon die!” And indeed, not even forty days had passed after the elder’s death when K.N. fell ill with pneumonia and died in November of the same 1891. – It is also remarkable that K. N. Leontyev, suffering from a very serious internal illness, thought with fear that his death from this illness would be very painful. But the elder always reassured him and said: “No, you will not die from this disease.” And so it happened: K. N. Leontyev died of pneumonia, one of the least painful diseases. The same K.N. Leontyev reports in one of his letters the following case of the foresight of Elder Ambrose. “Near my former Kudinov in Meshchevsky district there is the village of Karmanovo in the town of Raevsky; in Karmanovo there is a young man Yegor; was a soldier and he, along with 15 other people, had to draw lots for who would return home with a ticket. He prayed: "Elijah the prophet! Father Ambrose! Dormition of the Mother of God! help me to go home!" The lot fell according to his wishes. Yegor promised to go to Optina. Having returned home, I began, as usual, to put it off and forget. Suddenly he becomes seriously ill. I lay there for a long time, but in my memory. Of course, he began to repent and pray again. One day he was lying down and saw: an old monk in a short scroll and an old cap came in, came up and said to him: “God will help you, but you need to fulfill your promise.” And he left. There were relatives in the hut, but no one else saw him [the old man]. Since this was not in a dream (which his relatives also testify to, i.e. that he did not sleep), it struck him greatly, of course. Soon after this, he recovered, told his family about his vision, and since he not only never Fr. I didn’t see Ambrose, but I didn’t even see his portrait, but I heard that the landowner had a card, so I went to Raevsky and saw that it was the same old man! The other day he came here, and the elder received him. When he told him everything, Fr. Ambrose told him: “This is according to your faith - God sent it to you, and because you are not a drunkard, you live well in your family and never use bad words.” This especially struck Egor and all of us. Indeed, Yegor is like that and never swears with bad words! Before this meeting, Father Ambrose, of course, had no idea about him (his village is 70 versts from here) ... " One of the last cases of the elder’s insight was the following. During the funeral meal in Shamordin, immediately after the funeral service for Father Ambrose, an event occurred that made a strong impression on all those present. One of those present at the meal with her husband, the spiritual daughter of an elder, once asked the priest for advice and blessings - to take in a child to raise. In 1890, almost in the middle of October, the elder said to her in response to her request: “Wait, in a year I myself will show you the child to adopt.” At dinner, the couple who had come to the funeral remembered with grief the words of the elder and regretted that the death of the priest did not allow him to fulfill his promise. But before lunch had finished, a rumor spread that a baby had been found abandoned at the porch of the command building, where the guests were having lunch. When the childless wife heard about this, she rushed to the baby and exclaimed with a feeling of deep tenderness: “It was the father who sent me my daughter.” And the child was taken with her and subsequently adopted. In addition to cases of insight, many more cases are known when, through the prayers of the elder, the sick received healing. Such cases happened both during the life of the elder and after his death. During the priest’s life, many turned to him with a request to pray for healing from serious illnesses. And for the most part, in extreme cases, when medical art turned out to be powerless. In such cases, the elder most often advised using the Sacrament of Anointing, and explained both in letters and personally that through this Holy Sacrament a person receives permission from all forgotten and bewildered sins, and that many people completely wrongly postpone the performance of this sacrament until their death. Sometimes the elder appointed prayers to be served before local miraculous icons or sent to Tikhonova hermitage (18 versts from Kaluga) to pray to the saint of God Tikhon of Kaluga and bathe in his healing well. But sometimes, according to the grace given to him by the Lord, he healed with his own direct prayer, as the following, for example, cases show. The aforementioned spiritual daughter Fr. Ambrosia, A. A. Shishkova, tells about herself: “In 1877, I was very ill, for almost a year, with a severe sore throat due to a cold. I could barely swallow liquid food. I lived in the village then and was undergoing treatment. The doctors, seeing that my illness was getting worse, advised me to go to Moscow, convene a consultation and live abroad in a warm climate. At this time, Mrs. Klyuchareva, who lived with her granddaughters near the Optina Hermitage, came to the neighboring Troekurovsky Convent, where she had her own estate nearby. Having learned that I was so ill, she invited the nuns to convey her advice to me - to turn to the Optina elder Fr. Ambrose in writing and ask for his prayers. At first I didn’t pay attention to these words. But, seeing the worsening of my painful condition, I decided to write to the elder (even though I didn’t know him), asking for his prayers for me, who was sick. Father soon answered me: “Come to Optina, without hesitation; just serve a prayer service to the Savior, the Mother of God, St. John the Warrior and St. Nicholas the Wonderworker.” The offer to go to Optina Pustyn greatly frightened me, because I knew what a long and difficult journey I had to make, while I could not get up from exhaustion. “How will I go?” – I thought. But the emphasized words - “without hesitation” - strengthened my spirit and my strength, and I, despite the children’s request not to go and the doctor’s conviction, invited a priest, served a prayer service and the next day I went, first in a carriage, and then by rail and again on horseback. Upon arrival in Optina, I asked to find out from the priest at the monastery when I could come to him. He ordered me to tell me to rest now, and the next day I would go to mass and from there to him... So I did... When I entered the priest’s room with Mrs. Klyuchareva, she, kneeling before him, began to ask with tears: “Father, heal her, as you know how to heal.” The elder became very angry at these words and ordered Mrs. Klyuchareva to leave immediately. He said to me: “It is not I who heal, but the Queen of Heaven; turn and pray to Her.” In the corner of the room hung an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Then he asked where his throat hurt. I showed the right side of my throat. The elder crossed the sore spot three times with prayer. It was as if I immediately gained some vigor. Having accepted the priest’s blessing and thanked him for his gracious welcome, I left. I arrived at the hotel, where my husband and a lady I knew, V.D.M.-P, were waiting for me. In front of them, I tried to swallow a piece of bread to make sure whether I felt better through the prayers of the elder. Before, I couldn't swallow anything solid. And suddenly - what a joy I was! “I was pain-free, very easy, I could eat everything, and so far the pain has never returned - 15 years have already passed!” Here is the story of Mrs. V.D.M.-P. about her son's miraculous recovery. “On May 27, 1878, our fourteen-year-old son Dmitry fell ill with an illness incomprehensible to us: suffering in the ear, head and jaws, with severe leakage from the right ear and a fever that reached 40 degrees. At the same time, he lost his hearing. At night he moaned, screamed in pain, and raved. His sleep was restless and intermittent; but often nights passed without sleep at all. We attributed this suffering to an internal abscess in the ear and were very afraid of the consequences. The invited doctor, a specialist in ear diseases, Mr. Belyaev, after a thorough examination of the patient, announced to us that our son had a very serious case of ear catarrh, which occurred as a result of inflammation of the middle ear, and that this persistent catarrh had perforated the eardrum. This disease is considered incurable. Dr. Belyaev, by the way, began to console us, saying that there is hope for the patient’s younger years, that this illness requires great patience, that in the distant future one can hope for an improvement, etc. He positively denied the presence of an abscess. After two weeks of increasing and decreasing suffering, the doctor advised us to move our son to the village for clean air, since the patient had severe anemia, terrible pallor and loss of strength. Obeying the doctor’s advice, we carefully transported our son to the village (in the Mozhaisky district of the Moscow province), hoping for the beneficial effects of the change in air. On the very day of his arrival, the patient’s suffering intensified to such an extent that his face was distorted, his eyes were difficult to open, and very often painful screams began to be heard throughout the house... Every day the suffering and weakness intensified, so that the patient found it difficult to lift his head from the pillow, and the slightest noise or even sound caused him extreme suffering. In general, his condition seemed hopeless, but the Lord is great and merciful. On June 24, my husband came from Moscow to the village and suggested that my whole family go to pray and talk in Optina Pustyn and there ask for blessings and St. prayers about. Ambrose. When we left, we entrusted our sick son to the care of a teacher and an old nanny, who both loved him and in whom we were confident. Having arrived in Optina Pustyn on June 26, my husband, two daughters, nephew, pupil, maid and I - we all went to the monastery to Fr. Ambrose and told the priest about the condition of our sick son and asked him to St. prayers for the sick. Father calmly answered us, smiling affably: “Nothing, nothing, calm down, everything will pass; pray only to God.” Every day we began to visit Fr. Ambrose, and the priest was so merciful that he talked with us for a long time and thereby strengthened us all, saying that “the prayer of parents reaches God; believe only in His mercy and pray, and the Lord will comfort you.” We told him that we do not rely on our sinful prayers, but rely on his intercession and St. prayers. He made us understand that the Lord will make us happy. On the advice and blessing of the elder, we stayed in Optina for three more days to talk. His confession left a deep impression on us... On July 1, having received news about our son that his unbearably painful condition was worsening every day, and that apparently we must expect a near end, we decided, without delay, to accept the blessing of Fr. Ambrose, immediately set off on the return journey. But the priest blessed us to leave only the next day. On July 2, after early mass, at 9 o’clock in the morning we all came to the elder. He blessed us all with kindness and parting words and, turning to my husband and me, said: “Do not worry and do not be upset; go in peace, trust in God’s mercy, and you will be comforted. Pray to God, pray to God! You will be joyful.” Then he gave me two small crosses, worn on belts with prayers woven on them: one St. Tikhon of Zadonsk, and the other - St. Nicholas the Wonderworker - for me and for our son with the words: “Give my blessing to your son.” As we left, we once again earnestly asked for his prayers. “Okay, okay,” he answered hastily and immediately added: “And you pray to God.” Having blessed everyone, he released us. An hour later we set off on the way back home to our son. We arrived at the station (10 versts from the estate) on July 3 at four o’clock in the morning. The coachmen who were waiting for us with their carriages told us that our son’s suffering had been intensifying since our departure, and his health was deteriorating every day; especially on July 2, he suffered unbearably, and his screams tore the soul of everyone to whom they reached. There was no sleep the whole day, just like the two previous nights, and the patient’s strength completely dropped. The teacher and nanny were about to send to Moscow for a doctor when our telegram was received about our return from Optina. With inexpressible trepidation and heartfelt anguish, we left the station... Suddenly, not reaching two miles to our estate, my thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop of our carriage. Our son’s teacher drove up to us at full gallop, and at that moment I thought that everything was probably over, and he was no longer in the world. But the teacher to whom our son was entrusted announced to us with great joy that some unusual incident, or crisis (as he said), had occurred with the patient, and that he was now completely healthy. - “Are you healthy?” – I couldn’t believe my ears. “Yes,” he repeated, “thank God, Dmitry is completely healthy.” In short words he conveyed to us how a miraculous recovery took place. After a painful day (July 2), the dying boy, exhausted and broken, suddenly fell into a deep sleep at 11 o'clock at night - and his sleep was quiet and peaceful. Thus he slept until 4 o'clock in the morning (July 3). When he woke up, he was completely healthy, cheerful and strong. The leaking from the ear stopped and hearing returned; only pallor remained. “Now he gets up,” the teacher added, “and gets dressed, wants to meet you on his feet.”... It’s difficult to convey what we felt at this news. Tears of joy and deep gratitude to the Lord flowed from our eyes. In our souls we fervently praised and thanked God and the loving prayer book Fr. Ambrose... We hurried home. We didn't drive, we flew. When we entered the hall of our house, the door of Mitya’s room opened, and our still terribly pale, but healthy and cheerful son appeared on the threshold. His head was still wrapped in white scarves. At that moment he resembled the risen Lazarus. He joyfully rushed to hug us, and there was no end to mutual questions. I gave him the cross I had brought, sent to him by Fr. Ambrose, and Mitya kissed it and put it on himself with reverence. From that day on, his strength became more and more stronger, his appetite returned; the leak from the ear no longer returned, and the hearing became equally good in both ears. A week later he could already take up mental studies and rode horseback... That same year we invited doctors to a consultation, and Mr. Belyaev, after a long examination of our son, could not determine in which ear the eardrum was perforated; and only after we pointed out his right ear did he notice a small scar and was forced to recognize the matter as supernatural. Here is a completely true, although perhaps inept, transfer of a miraculous event that took place in our family through the prayers of the loving, dear elder of Optina Hermitage, dear father Fr. Ambrose, whose memory will never be erased from our grateful hearts.” The elder persistently detained one of his spiritual daughters, Mrs. B., and her son in Optina Pustyn for one day and thereby protected them from traveling on the very train with which the Kukuevsky disaster occurred. “One summer,” said the Optina monk Fr. P. – I had to be in Kaluga. On the way back to Optina Pustyn, a priest with his wife and a boy of about eleven caught up with me. After talking about Father Fr. Ambrose, priest Fr. John said that his parish was not far from the Podborok station, and that this boy, his son, was born according to St. prayers of the elder Fr. Ambrose. The priest's wife confirmed her husband's words. “The true truth,” she said. We didn’t have children. We were bored and often came to the priest, who consoled us, saying that he was praying to God for us. This very boy was born to us. Apart from him, we have no children.” The priest said the following: “At one time, our son’s eye fell ill. My wife and I went to Kozelsk to see a doctor, but first we stopped in Optina and came to Father Ambrose. The elder, having blessed the boy, began to lightly hit the sore eye. My hair stood on end for fear that the elder would damage the boy’s eye. The mother began to cry. And what happened? We come from the old man to the hotel, and the boy tells us that his eye is better, and the pain in him has subsided, and then completely gone. Having thanked the priest, we returned home, glorifying and thanking God." The story of the skete monk Nestor is interesting. “On December 1, 1873, I and some of the brethren were tonsured into the mantle, from which the ever-memorable elder, Father Fr., took me under his spiritual guidance. Ambrose. In May of next year I had the intention of visiting my homeland. After praying at the graves of our ever-memorable elders, I went to the rector, Father Fr. Isaac, and explained his request to him. After listening to me, he said: “What, did you visit the old man?” “I answer: “No, father, I haven’t been yet!” - “Well, then go to him - what will he say. And I, brother, decide what has been decided. If he blesses and finds that this trip will not harm you, then I will not stop you; but just don’t live there for a long time, and the sooner you go to your cell, the better; for a monk to live long in the world - you know - is not useful; it’s good there, just not for our brother.” I went to the elder very inspired, but that day I could not see him, since he had a lot of people, both laymen and nuns. Confident that the elder would not detain me, I told some of the brethren that I was soon going to my homeland. Meanwhile, more than a week passed, and I still could not get to the elder. Finally, I managed to catch him alone. I went into my priest’s cell and prayed for St. icons, and then bowed to him to receive the blessing. Blessing me, he said: “God will bless you to do good.” Before I had time to say anything to him, he was already answering my thoughts: “Have you come to decide about your trip?” I say: “Exactly so, father.” - “That’s what, brother, I’m not told to let you go as you want, see for yourself, so that you don’t repent later when it’s too late.” I was extremely puzzled by this surprise. I tell him: “Well, dear father, is it likely that something unfavorable can happen to me on the way?” Father says: “Brother, I don’t have the gift of prophecy, I don’t know what can happen to you, but that’s what I was told about you, that’s what I’m saying; yes, to tell the truth, I feel sorry for letting you go.” Father said these words to me so graciously and fatherly that I could not even restrain myself from tears; so for some reason my heart ached, and I felt very sorry to part with the elder. I say: “Father, I’m already deciding to stay, I won’t go.” “And it’s good for you,” said the elder, “the homeland will not leave; we can visit there next year, if we are alive and healthy.” I tell him: “Forgive me, father, for my frankness, I will be embarrassed in front of the brethren; I’m ashamed that I spent so much time getting ready, went to the Father Superior to ask, and then stayed.” To which the priest positively said: “What kind of trouble? Shame is not smoke, it doesn’t get into your eyes. A monk, brother, is ashamed to do his own will, so it is better to be a disciple of a disciple than to live according to his own will. This is also said in the fatherly writings. You should be ashamed not before others, but before God and your conscience - she is an incorruptible, unselfish judge. But you cannot listen to the advice of your spiritual father.” It’s shameful, but it’s soul-saving and necessary, and whoever doesn’t listen to good advice will be punished. No one will ask you, no one needs it, and if anyone asks, tell me, “It’s true, it’s not God’s will for my journey.” After these wise and loving words of the elder, my soul felt so joyful. I was ready to thank the elder for not letting me go, as if he had protected me from some kind of trouble... What happened next? A week later, I suddenly, completely unexpectedly, fell ill with typhoid fever. The disease developed quickly in me and did not respond to treatment. Rapid loss of strength. I was getting worse and worse. I was between life and death. Doctors - monastery Fr. Nifont and Kozelsky Kustov - stated that there was no hope for recovery, and I was given special treatment and received Holy Communion every day. Then, with the blessing of the abbot and the elder, they tonsured me into the schema, as they usually tonsure monks close to death. I was only 28 years old then. Fathers and brothers came to say goodbye to me. My memory did not fail me - I recognized everyone, but I was so weak that I could not open my eyes and it was very difficult for me to speak... Finally, Fr. Abbot. Our doctor Fr. was here. Nifont. Although weakly, I still hear, oh. The abbot says to the doctor: “Here, father, is our life! How long has it been since he came to me completely healthy, asking to go home? It’s good that the elder so wisely, rightly at the inspiration of God, did so and advised him not to go; but I thought about letting him go. So I would have let him go to the next world. And then it would be up to his conscience!” The doctor says: “He would certainly have gotten sick on the way and died, but probably sooner. Here we still treat him. Yes, finally, the communion of the Holy Mysteries greatly strengthens the seriously ill. But on the road, of course, none of this would have happened. Now they give him communion every day, after which he is more cheerful.” Father Abbot came up to me and, blessing me, said: “Forgive me, O. Nestor! You are as prepared as possible, and then let God’s will be done! We all need to die someday; this is an inevitable path, just bring us, Lord, to die with pure repentance.” Throughout my illness, I mentally called upon myself for help the prayers of the elder, my spiritual father, Father Ambrose, and in the hours of my unbearable suffering I even sent St. prayers so that I could either die or have at least some relief, since there was no way to endure. But every time they came from the elder and said: “Father is praying for you and sending you a blessing,” I will feel a little lighter and, as it were, more joyful. I remember one time - it was early in the morning, and probably the elder was resting at that time after the morning rule, it became so difficult for me that I decided to disturb him, that is, to ask him to St. prayers. The messenger soon returned and brought me from the priest a sealed vial of St. water from Pochaev, which he ordered to pour into a bottle, add clean water so that it was full, and give me a little to drink and soak my head with it. The good people who followed me - the brethren - diligently carried out his order, and, for the prayers of the elder, from that time on I felt better: the fever began to gradually subside, and I began to little by little come to life to the surprise of many, and especially my doctors, who finally sentenced me to death, so that recently they no longer treated me with anything, but left me to the will of God... Our doctor, Fr. Niphon then asked the elder in bewilderment: by what miracle did I remain alive? To this the elder answered him: “What is impossible from man is possible from God, who gives life and death... Over such difficult and hopelessly ill people the word of the Godfather David is fulfilled, who says: “The Lord punished me with punishment, but did not give me over to death.” Shamorda nun A. talked about herself. “In the spring of 1882, on Easter, my throat hurt, a wound formed in it, and I could neither eat nor drink. The doctor announced that I had throat consumption and should expect death. I went to my father. He tells me: “From the well, which is behind the monastery, take water into your mouth and gargle up to three times daily.” Three days later he himself called me to his place. Taking three eggs from under the pillow and taking out the yolks, he put the whites one into the other. Then he blessed Fr. Joseph, the former cell attendant, should bring water from the well. Having blessed the water, he ordered me to rub myself with it in his cell and to eat the egg whites. Upon arrival at my cell, they rubbed me with water and gave me egg whites, which I swallowed without pain. After that, I slept the whole day and, when I woke up, I felt that my illness had disappeared and I had completely recovered. Without hesitation, I went to the elder. The nuns did not recognize me, thinking that it was not me, but my own sister. Father met me and blessed me, saying that St. Tikhon Kaluzhsky. Since then I have not suffered from a sore throat. When I told the doctor about my healing, he said that a miracle had happened to me, and that my illness could not be cured by natural means.” Imitating one of his predecessors in eldership, Hieroschemamonk Leonid, Fr. Ambrose sometimes liked to cover up his miraculous help with a humorous word or movement, in order to thus divert the attention of the witnesses somewhat to the side. For example, one monk came to the elder with a terrible toothache. Passing by him, the elder hit him in the teeth with all his might and asked cheerfully: “Well, is it clever?” “Cunningly, father,” answered the monk amidst general laughter, “but it really hurt.” But, leaving the elder, he felt that his pain had passed, and even after that it did not return. The peasant women noticed this trait very well. Ambrose, and those of them who suffered from headaches came to him and asked him: “Father Abrosim, beat me - I have a headache.” There were even more amazing cases. Without leaving the monastery due to illness, Elder Ambrose at the same time appeared hundreds of miles away to people who had never seen him or even heard of him; and at the same time either warned them against any danger, or gave the sick instructions on how to get rid of the disease, or immediately healed them. So the skete hieromonk V. said: “Ms. A.D.K. was seriously ill and lay in bed for several days without getting up. At one time she saw Elder Ambrose enter her room, approach the bed, take her hand and say: “Get up, you’ve had enough of being sick!” And then he disappeared from her sight. At the same time, she felt so strong that she got up from her painful bed and the next day went on foot from the city of Kozelsk to Shamordino (where the priest then lived) to thank him for the healing. Father accepted her, but did not give his blessing to disclose it until his death.” The nun of the Kashira convent of the Tula province, Hilarion (Ponomareva), conveyed the following about herself in writing: “Being very ill, two days before St. Nicholas Day (December 6, 1888), I grieved and cried that on this holiday, due to illness, I would sit in my cell, not being able to go to the church of God. And I was so sick all over that at nine o’clock in the evening I went to bed and fell asleep. But then I see in a dream: Father Fr. comes up to me. Ambrose says: “Why are you grieving ahead of time?” “With these words, he hit my right ear so hard that blood flowed from it. “Go,” he added, “to church, you fool, to the holiday!” When I woke up, I saw that the pillow I was lying on and the robe I was wearing were covered in blood. But at that same hour I felt completely healthy, and there were no traces of my illness left.” Here are excerpts from a wonderful story about herself by one of the elder’s spiritual daughters, Mrs. N. “A worldly woman who got married early, I didn’t know anything other than my family life. Although I had heard and seen about monasteries, monks and their elders in childhood, I had the most vague and even perverse concept, which was explained to me by people like me who understood nothing. And I didn’t consider it necessary to find out anything more about them; in short, I didn’t think about it at all. Despite all my life in agreement with my husband, the Lord often visited me with various sorrows, sometimes the loss of children, sometimes illnesses. But in all my many years of married life, I have never felt as hard and joyless as in 1884 and the years following... The loss, as a result of daring deception, of the material resources collected by my husband’s many years of labor affected him so much that he acquired an illness - gradual cerebral paralysis and, at the same time, angina pectoris. His and my suffering were inexpressible. By the way, his position in society, his service, which at first he could still continue, and his daughter, a young girl, required from me, as it seemed to me then, support for acquaintances and social life, which was not easy for me, given my mental disorder. In addition, the expected marriage of our daughter to the chosen one of our parental heart brought me and my husband considerable grief and concern, however, not without her consent. This matter, apparently, not without reason, dragged on and was postponed from year to year. The young man’s occupations required his constant presence at his place of residence, promised him a brilliant future, which he chased like a ghost, and thereby dragged himself and us down... Still, it was God’s will. Without all this, I would not have gotten to dear Father Fr. Ambrose and would never have seen or known a life opposite to the one I had led until that time.” Miraculously attracted Fr. Ambrose this person. “Once,” she continues her story, “returning from a big ball just before the morning (this was at the beginning of the winter of 1884, exactly two years before I got to see my father) with an emptiness in my heart and a heaviness in my head, as always happens with such entertainment, having hardly prayed to God, I threw myself, tired, into bed and immediately forgot. And then I saw in a light dream: I found myself in a dense, centuries-old forest, such as I had only ever seen in panoramas. I walked alone along a well-trodden path, which soon led me to some building, and I found myself in front of small saints. gate with an image on the sides of St. pleasers. The gate was open and I entered a beautiful garden. I walked straight along the sand-strewn path. There were flowers on both sides. Soon this path led me to a small wooden church. I walked up the steps to the porch. The iron door, painted green, was locked from the inside. When I approached it, someone pulled back the iron bolt from inside and opened the door for me. I saw before me a tall old man with a bare head, wearing a robe and stole. He took me firmly by the right hand, led me into the church, turned sharply to the right towards the wall, placed me in front of the icon of the Mother of God (Feodorovskaya, as I later learned), and said briefly and sternly: “Pray.” Even in my dream, I remember, I was amazed by the elder’s appearance and asked him: “Who are you, father?” He answered me: “I am the Optina elder Ambrose.” And, leaving me alone, he went out the opposite door of the church. Left alone and having prayed before the icon of the Queen of Heaven, in front of which the elder placed me, I looked to my left and saw a tomb or shroud. (Indeed, the shroud lies here all year round, except for Holy Friday and Saturday.) I went up to it, prayed, then looked back at the whole church. It was a wonderful little church with a pink curtain on the Royal Doors, all flooded as if with sunlight. And, strangely, I suddenly found myself in the middle of him in a white shirt with my hair down and barefoot, and I prayed and cried like never before. After that I woke up. My entire pillow was covered in tears. A strange, unprecedented dream made a deep impression on me and made me think. The idea of ​​going or contacting the elder in writing did not occur to me then. But the dream I saw did not leave and was not erased from my memory. Two more years of my husband’s physical suffering and my mental anguish passed. But the Lord wanted to test us to the end, for our admonition. My husband fell ill with typhus. The disease became more complicated. It is unknown why his leg ached, in the upper part of which there was a swelling with acute pain at times, especially at night, which the patient spent without sleep, rushing from side to side in pain. Moreover, the leg became more and more swollen and red. For some reason they decided to put a bandage on the entire leg. A surgeon was invited for this. When examining the leg, this latter identified an abscess inside it and found that the leg was full of pus. A cut of three inches was made, and the material was released. The patient received relief, but far from recovery. A few days later the same suffering began again. My leg was swelling again. I had to make a puncture in another place. Then they pierced it again and again several times. And the wounds, releasing matter, healed. It got to the point where it was impossible to make any more punctures. All wounds, despite careful care, festered. The patient lay on his back for three months straight. The leg was like a log. The nerves were so sensitive that the touch of the linen caused him pain. The swelling in my leg was growing higher and higher. I couldn’t stand it and sent for the doctor again. But he, having examined the leg, took away from me all hope for the patient’s recovery. It was then that the idea of ​​turning to the prayers of the great elder first occurred to me, which I then immediately did. I wrote to one of my relatives, the spiritual daughter of an elder, who was staying in Optina at that time, a letter with a detailed description of the condition of her sick husband, asking her to convey everything to the priest and ask him to St. prayers. A few days after the letter was sent, while changing the position of the patient’s leg, I saw with horror that the tumor had already taken over the lower abdomen. Moreover, the patient’s suffering was so great at that moment that, not knowing how to alleviate it, for some reason I suddenly decided to make a bandage and bandage the leg near the groin. My hands were shaking. I was afraid to do it too hard. And of course, my bandage, which for some reason came into my head, was only a consolation for myself. But not even an hour had passed before the patient called me loudly, saying: “Look, my legs are all wet.” Having opened my leg, I saw that the very first wound, that is, the first cut made by the doctor three months before, was open to its full former depth, and matter was gushing out of it like a fountain. For three days the material flowed continuously; after which the patient began to noticeably improve in strength. Having written about this with my relative in as much detail as possible, I, to my utter amazement, learned that the day and hour of the opening of the wound on my husband’s sore leg coincided with the day and hour of my relative reading my letter to the elder. Spring has come. My husband’s health improved so much that he could go out into the air.” This was Elder Ambrose’s second reminder of himself. A third soon followed. “Struck by a grave family grief (the unscrupulous act of my daughter’s fiancé), I,” this lady continues to tell, “came up with the idea of ​​going on foot on a pilgrimage to a local saint, in the hope of using bodily fatigue to kill the mental anguish... From the lack of habit of walking and from nerves shaken by grief, my strength failed me. By evening, my head, arms and legs ached, and I could barely drag myself to the place. There was a fever throughout my whole body, and my right hand on the side of my sore church was paralyzed - something that had never happened to me before. Arriving at the monastery, where the relics of the saint are kept (under cover), I fell on the first stone I came across, not having the strength to move further, and sent the maid, whom I took with me, to look for a place in the hotel. But she soon returned, saying that behind the large crowd of people there was no free corner anywhere. I had to go to the village, which is near the monastery itself, and look for shelter there. There, in a room shared with other pilgrims, there was a corner for me; I got one bare bench, and the hostess, out of pity for me, so sick and weak, gave me her pillow. Almost unconscious of the pain, I, still dressed, threw myself on the bench. But the scream of the people walking on the street and the noise of the guests coming to my hostess did not give me rest all night. Moreover, the inexpressible pain of my whole body did not give me the opportunity to lie down even more comfortably. By morning the street scream died down, and I fell into a light sleep that carried me home. I felt like I was in my living room on the couch. But my sleep was so light that I felt pain throughout my whole body and in my sleep. Suddenly, it was as if the doors of the room opened, and an old monk approached me. Stretching out his hands, he picked me up, sat me down and carefully asked: “What hurts you?” I remember very well that I answered him: “Arms and legs, father, but most of all the head,” which I placed on his hands. The elder grabbed my sore arms and legs with his own hands, and hit me on the head, in the sore spot, three times. Then I asked someone standing behind the elder: “Who is this?” And she received the answer: “Yes, this is Elder Ambrose of Optina!” Suddenly the voice of my hostess woke me up: “It’s already five o’clock, they’re announcing mass! Will you go, lady?” I jumped to my feet. I didn’t feel any pain in my head or pain in my body - I was healthy, cheerful, somehow revived. I crossed myself and, having washed my face with cold water, went to church; I held mass, a prayer service with an akathist for the saint, and was about to go and refresh myself with tea, so that later I could set off on the way back. “How?” says my maid. “After being here, won’t we go bathe in the holy well of the saint?” I tried to refuse, but, remembering my wonderful healing by the elder that night, I went. We took a swim. And then I set off on the return journey, which I did so easily and cheerfully that I surprised everyone with my early arrival. Here I decided not to look at any obstacles, but to go to Optina Pustyn to the elder, Father Fr. Ambrose, who in such a wondrous way called me, a sinner, to himself.” What follows is a detailed story about the arrival to the elder, about meeting him and about the further attitude towards him, but we will no longer follow the narrator, since this is not part of the task of our present narrative. Imbued with love for suffering humanity, Elder Ambrose, with his holy prayers and advice, delivered some from various bad and harmful habits. One day a peasant from the Tula province came to the elder, who suffered from drunkenness and, since he could not give up this destructive habit, he wanted to commit suicide several times. He came to the elder, but could not say anything. But the elder himself told him in reproof that he was suffering from wine drinking because, while still a boy, he stole money from his grandfather, who was a church elder, and bought wine with this money. I gave him some herbs to drink at home. The peasant got rid of his drinking and became completely healthy. St. Petersburg resident Alexey Stepanovich Mayorov, being overly addicted to smoking tobacco, felt it was harmful to his health. He addressed in writing to the elder Fr. Ambrose, asking him in absentia for advice on how to get rid of this passion. In response to this request, the elder sent Mayorov a letter dated October 12, 1888, in which the following was written: “You write that you cannot stop smoking tobacco. What is impossible with man is possible with the help of God, you just have to firmly decide to leave it, recognizing the harm it causes to the soul and body, since tobacco relaxes the soul, multiplies and intensifies passions, darkens the mind and destroys bodily health with a slow death. Irritability and melancholy are a consequence of the pain of the soul from smoking. I advise you to use spiritual medicine against this passion: confess in detail all your sins from the age of seven and throughout your entire life, partake of the Holy Mysteries and read the Gospel daily, standing, chapter by chapter or more; and when melancholy strikes, then read again until the melancholy passes; will attack again - and read the Gospel again. Or instead, make 33 large bows in private, in memory of the earthly life of the Savior and in honor of the Holy Trinity.” Having received this letter from the post office, Alexey Stepanovich read it and lit a cigarette, but suddenly felt a strong pain in his head, and at the same time an aversion to tobacco smoke, and did not smoke at night. The next day, out of habit, I began to light a cigarette four times, but I could not swallow the smoke due to severe pain in my head. And he gave up smoking easily, whereas in the previous two years, no matter how hard he forced himself to give up smoking, he could not. And although he became ill, he still smoked 75 times a day. In the Borisov women's hermitage in the Kursk province, among the sisters of the monastery there was one young novice who was so addicted to one worldly family that often, despite the prohibition of the mother abbess, she visited him, and even against her desire. On the advice of some sisters, she wrote to Father Fr. Ambrose, revealing her weakness, and asked him to St. prayers. Soon she saw in a dream that some splendid old man led her to the icon of the Mother of God and said: “Let us pray to the Queen of Heaven!” With these words from the elder, the novice woke up and told the sisters what she had seen. They explained to her that it was Elder Ambrose who appeared to her, whom she had never seen before. Soon after, she received an answer to her letter from the priest, which greatly reassured her. When after that the desire again came to her to go on a date with the mentioned family, she always read the elder’s letter, and her desire passed. Subsequently, she completely freed herself from this habit and began to live like a monk, ceasing close acquaintance with the laity. Guarded by Fr. Ambrose of his spiritual children and from enemy temptations. So Hieromonk Dorofei tells the following about himself: “Upon my arrival in Optina Pustyn in 1874, I was entrusted with cook obedience. Six months passed, and in my cell enemy insurance began at night. It seemed to me that some old man was coming to me and muttering a prayer; the dishes in the cell rattled for no reason; my bed was shaking, and the enemy was pressing on me. And when it happened that I screamed or sighed out of fear, I clearly heard a voice and the words: “It can’t be worse than this - oh!” I went first to Fr. Anatoly and told him about the enemy insurance, but he sent me to Father Ambrose. The elder, after listening to me, said that I should not be afraid, but to drive away enemy fear I should say the Jesus Prayer. After this, all insurance stopped, and I always calmly remained in my cell.” Something similar happened several times in Shamordin; knocking was heard on doors and windows, etc. When the priest was informed about this, he said: “Well, there will be no more knocking.” - “Who is that knocking, father?” - they asked him. “Whoever knocked will knock no more,” the elder answered again. Now it remains for us to say one more thing about how Father Fr. Even after his death, Ambrose did not leave his help to those in need. In the October book “Soulful Reading” for 1897 there is a letter from a certain Nikolai Yakovlevich Shirokov of the Vyatka province of Glazov district to the Optina elder Hieroschemamonk Joseph with the following content: “I,” writes Shirokov, “was very sick, suffering from pain in my legs and head. On November 26 last 1896, my father brought the book “Soulful Reading” from our village priest, in which I found an article about Fr. Ambrose. After reading it and thinking a little, I began to pray spiritually to Fr. Ambrose for the healing of my ailments and, having prayed, fell into a thin sleep. I had just fallen asleep when suddenly an extraordinary light shone in front of me, which soon disappeared, only one trace of it remained in the form of a cloud. And suddenly I hear the steps of a walking man. Soon I see before me a husband, adorned with gray hair, in a robe, with a cross on his chest. At the same time, I will try to describe his features: he is short in stature, his face is exhausted by fasting, and therefore it is very light; his nose is hooked, his hair is gray, not very thick, his gray beard is also not thick, and his voice is very sonorous. In addition, he had a rosary on his left hand and a staff in his right hand. So he came up to my bed and said: “Child Nicholas! Get up, hurry to church, serve a prayer service to St. Ambrose of Milan, and you will receive quick relief.” He took my hand, blessed me and touched my feet with his staff, which immediately felt relief. He gave me something like prosphora to eat, and suddenly there was a noise in my head. I was quite horrified then and thought that I had no head on my shoulders. But this old man covered her with a robe, and soon I felt relief. The elder blessed me once again, and I was honored to kiss his bright hand and at the same time dared to ask him: “What is your name?” He answered me: “To whom,” he says, “I ordered you to serve a prayer service, I bear his name, I am Hieroschemamonk Ambrose from Optina Hermitage.” Having said this, he became invisible. When I woke up, I was very glad that I had recovered. And the relatives were also very happy about this. Still, I did not reveal this phenomenon to them soon, but wrote it down only in my memorial book. But now this phenomenon has repeated again. Father Ambrose appeared to me lying in a tomb, entwined in the schema, and said: “Why are you, servant of God Nicholas, keeping silent about the deeds of God’s mercy, that is, you don’t inform the Optina Hermitage about the healing?” This is the only reason why I dared to report the above to Your Reverence and at the same time ask you, Fr. Joseph, do not ignore my story and, for the benefit of others, place it in the biography of Father Ambrose.” A similar incident is described in a letter to L.O.P., living in Shamordin, dated February 23, 1898. “Yesterday V. came and told me that a lady, a relative of L., wrote to him from Moscow that her husband was very ill. The doctors refused to treat him, and he was completely dying. One night he sees an old man near his bed, who prays over him and says: “Serve a prayer service to St. Ambrose of Milan,” and disappeared. The patient told his wife this, and they served a prayer service. He joined in and from then on began to recover, even got out of bed, but did not tell anyone about this appearance of the elder. When he began to feel completely well, the same old man appeared to him again (the former patient recognized him) and said: “You are now completely healthy; why are you hiding and not talking about your healing? We must speak; and the old man in front of you is Optina Ambrose.” And he disappeared. “When V. talked about this incident,” the author of the letter continues, “I was envious, but somehow my soul felt joyful—I can’t even express it.” Our dear one may not leave us either.” One Shamordin novice, under the influence of the sorrows and troubles that befell her, wanted to leave the monastery. At this time, the late elder Ambrose appears to her in a dream and says: “Don’t go anywhere, but live in one place. You can’t escape from sorrows, and you won’t find anything better. We must endure!” The novice calmed down and remained in the monastery. Here is another wonderful story by S.A.M. “In 1880, I completed a course at the institute. On February 3, 1881, I opened a boarding school for children of both sexes. I opened the school with my mother completely without any funds, since my mother and I left our married brother, who gave us absolutely nothing. My mother was a very religious old woman, and when I asked who she hoped for when opening a school without funds, she meekly answered me, pointing to a large image of the Savior: “That’s who I hope for! He will help me.” I was very irritated by her answer and said sharply to her: “What? Will he tell you anything?” She again meekly answered me: “Yes, He will tell me!” So, despite my and my sisters’ protest, my mother nevertheless energetically set about setting up a school. From the very first month our business went well, so by the end of the year the premises turned out to be insufficient, and we were forced to rent a larger apartment. I didn’t have to work for long with my dear old mother. In 1882, she suddenly fell ill and died within three days. I was left alone and continued to work, and things got even better, so I already started working on setting up a gymnasium. But God judged otherwise: a revolution took place in my life, both unexpected and terrible for me. 1887 On August 26, after finishing school, I went to the estate for my friend’s name day. On this day, completely healthy, happy, I was unusually cheerful. After lunch, one of my friends asked me to do an experiment with the suggestion of thoughts with her. Although I really loved doing this, for some reason I began to stubbornly refuse. They tried to persuade me for a long time, and I finally agreed. It was necessary to take an object and force the suggestible person to move it from one place to another. I approached the chest of drawers, on which there were many different things; There was a nine-piece prosphora right there, which the priest brought to the birthday girl. So, without thinking twice, I take the prosphora and transfer it to the washbasin and say to those present: “Here, gentlemen, Zhenya (friend) must take this prosphora and transfer it to the chest of drawers.” Everyone agreed. I call Zhenya from another room, blindfold her, take her hands and vigorously begin to inspire her to come to the washbasin, take the prosphora and take it to the chest of drawers. She quickly went to the washbasin, but after standing for a while, she began to spin and immediately fell unconscious; she didn’t even reach out to the prosphora. They picked her up, carried her to the balcony and soon brought her to her senses, and I went to the dining room, sat down at the table and just said: “Lord, how terrible,” and with these words she fell in a severe seizure, which was repeated up to 20 times in an hour, so that I was completely weakened, they put me to bed and sent for a doctor. Despite all this, I had seizures all night, until 4 o’clock in the morning; Finally, I asked to be taken home. Upon arrival home, the seizures began again, and, despite any treatment or careful care, the illness got worse and worse, so that at the end of September, after a consultation, the doctors urgently demanded that the school be closed and I be placed in the village. But even with complete isolation in the village, it was no easier for me; on the contrary, the attacks were also accompanied by severe melancholy. In this state, I lived with my nephew, a zemstvo doctor, for three years. Finally, he left for Moscow, and left me again with his mother. Here I felt worse and worse. One time, I remember, it was especially hard for me; melancholy tormented me to such an extent that I decided to take my own life. In extreme anguish, I go to my sister, cry, rush around and say that I can’t live anymore. My sister begins to persuade me and, by the way, asks me to join, since I have not been to church for three years, that is, since I fell ill, and have not received the Holy Mysteries. But I didn’t want to hear about communion. I don’t know how, but they still persuaded me to join. They took me the next day to the Trinity Monastery; there I celebrated mass; After mass, the hieromonk whom my sister asked comes up to me and invites me to go to my cell for confession. I confessed, and then I told him: “Well, father, I won’t come tomorrow to receive communion.” He started trying to persuade me, but I didn’t want to hear it. But still, the next day she arrived for matins and mass. I stood at Mass calmly, but when they sang “Our Father,” I couldn’t control myself and wanted to run away from the church; but the hieromonk stood next to me and did not let me in. I turned all pale, began to shake, and as soon as they brought out St. Gifts, how I had a demonic attack, so that the priest with the Gifts went back to the altar, afraid that I might push the cup out. Eight monks barely coped with me, let me down and introduced me, but I didn’t remember anything, only after that I calmed down. The hieromonk, seeing what happened to me, advised me to receive communion as often as possible, which I did. Every time I took communion, demonic attacks set in, and I suffered terribly. Finally, I went to Voronezh to see the saint Mitrofan. There, before communion, I had a violent fit, so I ran out of the church, tore my blouse and almost pushed out the vessel. In Voronezh, a hieromonk scolded me, and when he began to read the Gospel over me, it became so hard for me that I broke the chair I was sitting on and tore the cross out of the hieromonk’s hands. Upon arrival from Voronezh, seeing that prayer did not help me, I completely lost interest in God and even began to blaspheme; I again turned to the doctors and, on their advice, went to a psychiatric hospital, where my health deteriorated even more: I had 90 seizures a month; I became so weak that I could no longer walk. After lying in the hospital for 3 months, I was transferred to the chronic department of the hospital - to a shelter. The fits became less and less frequent, but they were replaced by fits of melancholy; The melancholy was so strong that I attempted suicide more than once, I always thought about how to take my own life, which I tried to do, but the attempt never succeeded. So I suffered for 18 years, but I began to partake of the Holy Mysteries without seizures. The last attack of terrible melancholy was on June 3, 1905. The melancholy was so strong that I began to strangle myself, and only thanks to one patient I did not manage to strangle myself. After this attack, I wrote a letter to my sister in which I asked her to take me from the shelter and place me somewhere in the village: it seemed to me that my melancholy was precisely because of the hospital environment and that with a change of place the melancholy would go away. My sister came to me and, instead of the village, suggested that I go to Optina Pustyn, which is located in the forest and has an excellent location; The pine forest, which should benefit me, stretches around for many miles. I was very seduced by the complete solitude and life in the forest, and I decided to go there with the goal of living like in a dacha for a month. When the time came to go to Optina, I became terribly angry with my sister for sending me to a completely unfamiliar area; I began to worry and told her: “You want to completely destroy me and your husband; well, where am I going alone and sick?! I won’t go.” My sister got angry with me, and we argued. But despite this, I still left. I arrived in Optina Pustyn on July 7, 1905. In the morning I went to the monastery to the elder, who soon received me and said that I was not allowed to stay with them for a long time and that I had nothing to do for a long time in the Optina Hermitage. A day or two passes, and I still don’t feel at ease and don’t like anything; I go into church for a minute, I can’t stand for long. On the 10th, for some reason I really wanted to read the biography of Elder Ambrose; I asked the monk-hotel for this book and read it long after midnight, and while reading I began to experience some unusually pleasant state of mind, which I had never experienced in my life. And while reading, I decided to serve a memorial service at the grave of Elder Ambrose. The next day I rush to early mass, and after mass I ask that a memorial service be served. I had to wait a long time for the hieromonk, who served requiem services at other graves. While waiting for the memorial service, I stayed at the grave of Elder Ambrose and began to cry, so bitterly that it was as if a source of tears had opened. During the funeral service, I cried all the time, the tears continued throughout the day. On this day I had to confess. The elder sent me to my confessor. I came to him in tears and began to talk about my sick soul; He treated my sick, suffering soul with care. After confession, he read a special prayer over me, during which I felt very sick, and I kept asking him to finish as soon as possible. After finishing the prayer, I felt unusually weak. After leaving him, I calmed down and stopped crying. The next day, she received the Holy Mysteries quite calmly and on the same day she left for Tikhonova Hermitage. When I arrived at the station from Optina Pustyn, something extraordinary happened to me: my entire mental structure immediately changed, I felt incredibly sorry for Optina Pustyn, so if I had been offered to choose one of two: either all the treasures of the world, or Optina Pustyn, I would have taken the latter. And now it’s been a year since I was reborn; It’s been a year since I had a single attack of melancholy, I became less irritated, I developed faith in God, in the afterlife, I understood the purpose of life. The thought of suicide has completely left me, I now consider myself a happy person, although the situation in my life has not changed at all. I believe that the Lord healed me, through the prayers of Elder Ambrose, from a cruel illness that I suffered for 18 years. My physical state of health is bad, which does not allow me to leave the shelter, but what is physical illness compared to mental illness? You can't even compare. After my first trip, some extraordinary force pulled me to Optina Pustyn, and the Lord brought me to visit the grave of Elder Ambrose that same year in September, then on Easter 1906 and now. A year has passed since I am mentally healthy, and I don’t know how to thank God and Elder Ambrose for such great mercy.” In addition to the above, we can add that in the summer of 1911 we saw a healed woman in Optina Hermitage, who, having confirmed the validity of all of the above, joyfully and with deep gratitude to God and to Elder Ambrose, declared that during the past six years that had passed since her miraculous healing, her former terrible state of unbearable melancholy and seizures had never returned to her. She feels calm and cheerful, despite the difficult external conditions of her existence. The doctors who treated her before, seeing her present condition, tell her that she was cured through suggestion, but this is completely wrong. When she was treated in Moscow through suggestion in a hospital, she not only did not get better, but got worse, so that when she left Moscow back, they had to carry her into the carriage in their arms, while going to Moscow for treatment, she was still able to walk on her own. Favorable climatic conditions could not influence her in Optina Hermitage, since she then spent only five days in Optina. S.A. has a firm and unshakable confidence that Fr. Ambrose, who healed her from a serious illness, does not leave her under his care. From the moment she received healing in the Optina Hermitage, this monastery, as she says in her note, became extremely dear to her and, moreover, became a necessary source of moral strength and spiritual uplift for her, so that she began to feel the need to visit it every summer for spiritual renewal and strengthening. But given her complete financial insecurity, she had no opportunity to undertake such trips. And it was here that Fr.’s concern for her showed itself again. Ambrose. Every time summer came, circumstances were such that S.A. the necessary funds for the trip were available, and now for the sixth year now she has been annually visiting Optina Pustyn and spending several hours here solely by the grace of the loving elder Ambrose. The above-mentioned S.A. also related the following incident: “In September 1908, a nurse at the St. Elizabeth at the T. provincial hospital, L.G., fell ill with a severe form of relapsing typhus shortly after her return from Optina Pustyn. The patient's temperature remained very high all the time, and she especially complained of a severe headache. On the night of October 9-10 (on the day of remembrance of Father Ambrose), she fell into oblivion and clearly sees that she, sick, is lying in the hall on the floor in the apartment in the city N. Father Ambrose enters the door, approaches her and, giving her prosphora, orders her to eat it, but the sick woman answers him that she cannot eat, because her tongue is dry and cracked. Father Ambrose tells her: “Go quickly home (to the shelter) and there take artos and water from my well from the tall lady who often comes to see me, soak the artos in this water and eat!” After this, the patient woke up, the temperature reached 41 degrees, and she felt very bad. On this day, her colleague, nurse E., came to visit her, whom the patient was looking forward to. As soon as she arrived, L. I began to ask her to quickly come to me and take artos and water from me, while she told me her dream. Nurse E. comes to me and conveys the patient’s request; I, of course, immediately gave her artos and water, but I was very surprised, since no one except me knew that I had artos and water from the monastery well, which I brought from Optina in August. The patient, after eating the artos, fell fast asleep; Having woken up, she no longer felt a headache, her temperature dropped to normal, and she was sweating heavily, after which she began to recover. Having been discharged from the infectious diseases department, L. again took her place as a nurse and personally told me about her dream. I asked her if she knew that I had artos and water from my father’s well. She said she didn’t know, and really, she couldn’t know, since I didn’t tell anyone.” We also present the story of the ryassophore novice of the Kraishevsky St. Tikhvin Monastery, Saratov province of Atkarsky district, Ksenia Alekseevna Shersheva. “I consider it my sacred duty to inform you,” she writes to the rector of Optina Pustyn, Fr. Archimandrite Xenophon, - about the healing I received through the prayers of the deceased elder Fr. Ambrose. Until July 30, 1906, I had been ill for a month with a headache, sometimes accompanied by fever. On the morning of July 30, 1906, I, in obedience to my milkmaid, boiled milk in a pot in the oven. Having boiled the milk, I, as I remember, began to close the stove and suddenly fell to the floor; I had a seizure. I don’t remember anything further. When I woke up, I could not answer the questions of those around me, could not utter a single word, and became completely mute. A doctor in the settlement of Elan, Atkarsky district, about 15 versts from our monastery, to whom I went twice, said that the hope for a complete cure was small, and that if there was an improvement, it would be insignificant; she will speak barely understandably, incorrectly, but as she said before, she will not speak. With the blessing of our mother abbess, I went, accompanied by our nuns, to Optina Monastery to venerate and ask St. prayers of the elder father Fr. Ambrose, where she arrived on August 14, 1906. In Optina Hermitage, on the very first day of my arrival, I served a memorial service at the priest’s grave. Then she confessed, received the Holy Mysteries and received special treatment. At first I could not bend down to bow due to a neck problem. I took sand from Fr.'s grave. Ambrose, swallowed it, and also - putting it in a bottle of water - drank this water and wet her head with it. I often went to the memorial service at the priest’s grave. On the 21st and 22nd, on an empty stomach, I drank oil from the lamp at the icon on the priest’s grave. On August 22, after lunch, I went to the monastery, and on the way, near Father Ambrose’s well, I had a paroxysm of coughing, during which something came off in my throat and I swallowed. On the advice of my nun companion, I went to the well, drank water from it, and suddenly began to answer her questions addressed to me clearly, distinctly, at the same time being surprised at this circumstance. I cried from this joyful surprise, and the nun stepped back from me in surprise, hearing me speak. From that time on, I speak completely freely, as before, before the attack, without any difficulty in speaking. With deep gratitude I attribute my healing to the prayerful intercession of Father Fr. Ambrose, to whom I resorted for help, often visiting his grave and asking for his prayers for me, a sinner. My illness and the sudden and miraculous healing that happened to me in the monastery can be witnessed by those who accompanied me from our monastery to Optina Pustyn: the treasurer, nun Angelina, nun Euphemia, the cassock novices Euphemia, Domnika, and Maria. 1906 August 24 days. Kozelskaya Optina Pustyn. Rassophore novice Ksenia.” K. N. Leontyev, a famous writer and publicist, was at one time the Russian consul in Turkey. Completely cold and indifferent to faith and religion, on one of his visits to Athos, under the influence of conversations with the local elders Jerome and Macarius, he was completely reborn spiritually and became a deeply religious Christian. Then, upon returning to Russia, he became acquainted with the Optina Hermitage and its elder Ambrose. Father Ambrose had a strong influence on K. N. Leontyev in the last years of his life. Leontyev himself says in one of his letters that in the first five years of his acquaintance with the elder, he could not approach him, get close to him and receive spiritual benefit from him, however, the constant and gentle influence of the elder had an influence on Leontyev, and in 1879 a sharp change occurred in his attitude towards the elder - he began to obey him with love in everything and from then on, until the end of his life, for 11 years he remained faithful and devoted to him student. “...In 1847 I came from Turkey, “enveloped in the air of Mount Athos,” and soon went to Optina. I liked Father Ambrose extremely, but for 5 years I still did not receive from him the consolations that I received from the more severe Jerome of Athos. But my spiritual life was very complex, difficult, very confusing - both heartfelt, economically, etc. The most terrible thing was what I had to talk about. To Ambrose, everything is brief, everything is only in the final conclusion, without any explanation. It was agony - after Jerome, who talked with me, questioned me, told me about himself, explained, blessed, etc. - to hear every time: “Be brief; I’m tired; I’m very weak; you without preamble; the abbess is waiting; one widow merchant has been waiting for the 3rd day. Hurry!” etc. Clement helped out, of course; he reasoned for the elder; he made every effort to accustom me to it. I tried - I went to Optina for 5 years and really loved going there, but much more through Kliment than through Fr. Ambrose. When Clement died and I was sitting in the hall of Fr. Ambrose, waiting to be called, I prayed to the image of the Savior and said to myself: “Lord! Teach the elder so that he will be a support and consolation!” You know my struggle." And this time Fr. Ambrose held me for a long time, calmed me down, instructed me, and from that moment everything went completely differently. I began to obey him with love, and he, apparently, loved me very much and consoled me in every possible way!.." You might be interested in: