Глава IX. Последний подвиг любви старца о. Амвросия – учреждение шамординской казанской женской общины и забота о ней

Even though there are many who care about Christ, but not many who are fathers: for in Christ Jesus through the gospel I gave birth to you. I pray to you: be like me, as I am like Christ (1 Cor. 4:15, 16) Intercede for all of us, O Lady, Queen and Lady! (Troparion to the Mother of God. October 22) What kind of reward do you think can be received by the one who gives the hundred virgins gathered in the monastery to serve God the opportunity not to scatter to different places or to turn into the world? It is good to help those who have been burned, but here there is only sorrow, for the most part bringing benefit to people, for which reason the fire is allowed from Providence from above; but it’s a hundred times higher if you save or give the opportunity to save many from obvious mental harm...” This is what Fr. Ambrose of one of his spiritual daughters, convincing her not to refuse to donate a certain amount for the establishment of one women’s monastery, and in these short words of his indicated the high vital and spiritual meaning of such a sacrifice 63. From all over Russia, both monastics and laity resorted to Elder Ambrose for advice, both in writing and verbally. Some sought spiritual consolation, some asked for resolution of doubts in faith; who - instructions on how to lead life. Those who wished to devote themselves to monastic life asked the elder for blessings on which monastery to enter, and how to live there, how to treat their relatives, and how to arrange their household affairs. But in particular, the elder had a lot of worries about women - widows, poor girls and orphans. For there were very, very many such women and girls who, wanting to lead a pious life, did not have the means to enter a women’s monastery and did not know where to lay their heads. Almost all women's monasteries in Russia accept as sisters only those who are able to buy a cell for themselves, make at least a small contribution to the monastery and support themselves with their own means or labors, since these monasteries do not have the ability to provide full maintenance to the monastics. And rarely, rarely, will a woman be accepted into a monastery without paying money, counting on her physical strength and health alone, as being able to perform difficult monastic obediences. Therefore, many of the women who do not have the opportunity to get into the monastery live in villages in cells and work just to feed themselves, while those who managed to fit into the monastery live in continuous labor. For healthy people, however, such a life is not very burdensome; and they themselves are firmly convinced that God loves work, and that their labors bring them eternal salvation. It’s a different matter for a woman in poor health. She would not be accepted anywhere in the nunnery, even if she had small means, for fear that in the event of a prolonged illness and inability to work, she might burden the monastery. It was these poor and destitute people that Elder Ambrose took into his care, trying to somehow accommodate them. To do this, he persuaded some pious wealthy people to establish women's communities, and he himself, as much as he could, contributed to this holy cause. On his advice and instructions, the Predtechenskaya women's community was established in 1879 in the city of Kromy, Oryol province. He devoted especially much effort in the 70s to the organization of the Akhtyrka Gusev women's community in the Saratov province. With his blessing, the Kozelshchanskaya community in the Poltava province, the Nikolo-Tikhvinskaya community in the Voronezh province became benefactors. The elder had to not only consider plans, give advice and bless people for their work, but also protect both benefactors and nuns of communities from various misadventures and obstacles on the part of some unfriendly laymen. On this occasion, he sometimes even entered into correspondence with diocesan bishops and members of the Holy Synod. But in all these cases, the elder only blessed others for the work, only guided others in the organization of communities, but he himself did not take direct part in this work. The time came when, according to the special ways of God's Providence, he himself had to take upon himself the task of caring for the materially and spiritually homeless persons who wanted to lead a pious life and sought his help and support, which was close to his heart. The circumstances of this case developed slowly and gradually. Everything went as if by chance. It began with the fact that one wealthy St. Petersburg gentleman asked the elder to buy for him a small dacha near Optina Pustyn so that he could live there with his family. About twelve versts from Optina, along the great Kaluga road, slightly to the left stands the village of Shamordino. At some distance from the village lived an old landowner, a certain Kalygin, together with his old wife. During a personal meeting with Kalygin (who sometimes visited the monastery), Fr. Ambrose, in the midst of the conversation, asked him if he would sell his estate. Kalygin agreed to the condition that he and his wife were allowed to live out the rest of their lives in Optina Pustyn, at a hotel. However, the St. Petersburg gentleman soon, for some reasons of his own, refused to purchase the Kalyginsky estate; then he was happily left behind by the elder’s spiritual daughter, Mrs. Klyuchareva, a monk of M. Ambrose, who also wanted to acquire an estate near Optina. At the same time, the elder told her: “Here, mother, the lot falls to you to take this property for yourself. You will live there, as if in a dacha, with your granddaughters, and we will come to visit you.” It should be noted that Klyuchareva had an only son, whose first wife, having given birth to two twin daughters, died soon after. Their father married someone else, and these half-orphans remained in the care of their grandmother and lived with her. Their godfather, at the request of their grandmother, was Father Ambrose, who cared extremely about them. To provide for the future of these granddaughters, Klyucharyova bought the Kalyginskoe estate. The purchase of the Kalyginsky estate was completed in the fall of 1875. It is remarkable that a year before the sale of the estate, old man Kalygin had a special vision - he imagined a church in the clouds on his estate. Kalygin's estate consisted of fifty acres of land. At the top of a steep, high mountain stood the more than modest one-story wooden house of the Kalygins, 26 arshins long and 12 arshins wide. One half of the house was occupied by the old owners, while the other half, without a floor, served instead of a barn. The thatched roof of the house had turned black with age, the corners had rotted in some places... But from here the view of the surrounding area was beautiful. The entire huge mountainside is covered with dense deciduous forest. And there, deep, deep, at the foot of the mountain in a hollow, among the emerald greenery, the small river Serena bends like a silver ribbon. Behind it are meadows, and further to the right - to the southwest - hilly terrain merging with the blue sky. In summer all this turns green and variegated with many small flowers scattered by the generous hand of the Creator. To the left, to the southeast, the eye of a curious observer, through peasant fields sown with various grains, runs a space of ten miles, if not more. And there, in the final distance, you can see the Optinsky farm above the river. Zhizdra, and behind it a centuries-old forest, foggy with a transparent airy blue. In the very first summer after purchasing the estate, in July 1876, the elder Fr. Ambrose came to Shamordino to see the area. Upon entering the house, he said to those present: “Have peace and holiness with everyone, but except these no one will see the Lord.” Inspecting the place, he gave his blessing to build a new house here for Ambrosia’s mother and her granddaughters, exactly on the spot above which, as they say, Kalygin once saw a church in the clouds and said: “We will have a monastery here!” This house was completed the following year, and the elder himself sprinkled it with holy water. It is remarkable that the large hall in the house, according to the elder’s instructions, occupied the eastern part, and the rooms of Klyuchareva’s granddaughters were to the north, despite the fact that Klyuchareva herself did not like this arrangement of the house. More than once afterwards the priest recalled this, saying: “She built a house for the children, but we needed a church.” In the house prepared in this way, Klyucharyova placed her granddaughters to live, and with them her sisters, novices (her former serfs), who served her for a long time. Over time, these women began to be joined by their relatives, even young ones, who were looking for silence and prayer, because the pious mood of Klyuchareva herself was reflected in everything that was close to her. Even then, life was already flowing on the new estate, close to monastic life. Klyuchareva herself continued to live as before in the guest yard at Optina Pustyn, however, in such a way that she was almost inseparable from her granddaughters; either she stayed for a long time on the estate, or she took them to her place. Taking care of providing for his granddaughters, Klyucharyov, with the blessing of Fr. Ambrosia, acquired another dacha near the Kalyginsky estate - Rudnevo, and also allocated part of her capital to her granddaughters with the condition that, in the event of their unexpected death, a women's community would be established on the Kalyginsky estate; and the dacha purchased nearby and the capital will be used to support it. It was good for the inhabitants of the Kalyginsky house to live in silence and prayer. One thing was missing - the church of God, since the rural church was far from Shamordin. And so, with the blessing of the elder, M. Ambrose began to work for permission to build a church in her house. This was in 1881. Archbishop Gregory responded sympathetically to Klyuchareva’s request, but subsequent events—the martyrdom of Emperor Alexander II and the death of Archbishop Gregory himself, which soon followed—prevented the implementation of this request. Meanwhile, Klyuchareva herself fell ill and, having been ill all summer, died on August 23, 1881. Klyucharyova’s granddaughters, with their nannies and teachers, continued to live for some time in Shamordino, where, with the blessing of the elder, one of her closest employees, the old nun Alipia, became the main manager after the death of M. Ambrosia. But they did not live here for long. With the blessing of the priest, they were placed in the Oryol boarding school, which was run by one of the elder’s spiritual daughters, where they remained until 1883. This year, in the spring, after finishing school, the girls came to Optina Pustyn to meet with Elder Ambrose, whom they loved dearly, and here they both suddenly fell ill with diphtheria on the same day - May 31. The girls were separated. Their disease progressed quickly. They were admonished by confession and communion of the Holy Mysteries of Christ. While they were able, they constantly wrote notes to the priest, asking him to St. prayers and blessings. On June 4, one of them, Vera, died. The novices who looked after the sick did not tell the surviving Lyubov about this, so as not to alarm her. But the sick woman, who was dozing, suddenly woke up and asked her sister sitting next to her: “Is Vera dead?” She started to say that she was alive, but she quickly objected: “How alive? The nanny just told me that she died.” And there was no nanny here at all. On June 8, Lyubov also died. Both sisters, who dearly loved each other, were buried side by side in the Optina cemetery near the grave of their grandmother, Mother Ambrosia, and not far from the place where Elder Ambrose was subsequently buried. The life and destiny of these girls is remarkable. Born on the same day, receiving the names Faith and Love, they lived their entire short lives by faith and love. Quiet and meek, they were passionately attached to each other and were never separated; never played pranks; dressed simply; they loved listening to long monastic services, they loved the quiet, solitary monastic life. They were not afraid of death. More than once they told others: “We don’t want to live longer than 12 years; what is good in this life? And indeed, death befell them at the age of 12, and just as they entered life together, they left it together, in a bright aura of childish purity, tender mutual love and deep faith 64. After the death of the Klyucharyov girls, according to the spiritual will of M. Ambrosia, a women's community was to arise in the former Kalyginsky estate. Immediately after the death of the children-heirs, even before the opening of the community, work began to boil on the estate, and the elder again filed a petition for permission to build a church on the Klyucharevsky estate, as well as for the opening of a women's community. The request was granted. Little work was required to set up the church. An altar was attached to the large hall facing east; and the old iconostasis from the Optina Church was renewed in the name of the righteous Anna and St. Mary of Egypt, where Fr. Ambrose built a new iconostasis. When in the mid-seventies Fr. Ambrose entered the newly built Klyucharyovsky house for the first time, he saw in the hall a large Kazan icon of the Mother of God; stopping in front of her, he looked at her for a long time and finally said: “Your Kazan Icon of the Mother of God is undoubtedly miraculous: pray to it and keep it.” In the name of this holy icon, the first house church in the Klyucharyovsky house was consecrated; That’s why the women’s community opened here began to be called Kazan. Not long before, precisely in 1882, a Tula landowner, a middle-aged widow, Sofya Mikhailovna Yankova, nee Bolotova, came to the elder, who soon afterwards, with the blessing of the elder, entered into a second marriage with an elderly landowner Nikolai Ivanovich Astafiev, who lived near the Optina Hermitage, also a widower. Astafiev fell ill soon after marriage, and then a year and two months later he died. Sofya Mikhailovna, seeing this as an indication from God, from that time on completely devoted herself to serving God, becoming a devoted novice of Elder Ambrose in everything. As an intelligent, capable woman who had a wonderful gift of speech, Fr. Ambrose sent everywhere with instructions on the affairs of the opening community, and she was later appointed its first abbess. The consecration of the church and the opening of the community were performed on October 1, 1884 by the Kaluga Bishop Vladimir. The elder shut himself up in his cell for the whole day and prayed. Mother Sophia was the elder’s indispensable assistant in setting up the young monastery, his, as they say, right hand. Unfortunately, her management did not last long. Intelligent, well understanding both spiritual life and economic affairs, devoted with all her soul to the elder, she, under his direct guidance, having entered the path of monastic life and accepting the most difficult obedience in the monastery to the superior, began to struggle with great zeal. Having always lived in bliss since childhood and not at all familiar with bodily labors, she now worked tirelessly and did not spare herself at all. In wet, cold autumn weather, it happened all day long, from morning to evening, she herself walked throughout the monastery, monitoring all the monastic work, and by nightfall she returned to her cell, all wet and frozen. These labors and worries, combined with a strict ascetic life, soon broke her good health. She gradually began to wither away and little by little melted away, like a candle; Finally, on January 24, 1888, she fell asleep in the eternal sleep of a righteous woman, having received from the Lord a reward corresponding to her great holy zeal and labor. Subsequently, Elder Ambrose, when remembering her, would often say with a special feeling of tenderness: “Oh, mother! I have found favor with God.” After the death of Mother Sophia, at the direction of Elder Ambrose, the nun of the Belevsky Monastery, Mother Euphrosyne (Rozova), was appointed head of the Shamorda community, who was from 1860 until the elder’s death his devoted and sincere student and assistant. Electing zealous and experienced ascetics and his devoted spiritual daughters as leaders of the Shamorda community, Fr. Ambrose never ceased to be the main leader and inspirer of the entire life of the young monastery. He sought means for her existence, which was not easy, given the enormous number of sisters he received; Without his advice and blessing, nothing was done in the monastery; on his instructions, the sisters were accepted... Due to the huge crowd of sisters, he, however, did not have the opportunity to be the spiritual father of each of them and therefore handed them over to the hands of one of his closest students, the monastery leader, Fr. Hieroschemamonk Anatoly, who treated them with the most caring fatherly love, as can be seen from his “Letters to Nuns.” Meanwhile, building after building was built in the new community. But there was such a sudden surge of people who wanted to join the opening community that as soon as the house was built, they were already waiting twice as long for the new premises. And who did the elder accept and place in the community he established? Most of them were in extreme poverty, widows and orphans, as well as blind, lame, sickly and generally the most disadvantaged women and girls. For example, a young woman comes to her father, having been left as a sick widow in someone else’s family. Her mother-in-law chases her away and says: “If you, wretched one, even hanged yourself, it wouldn’t be a sin for you.” The elder listens to her carefully, peers at her and finally says: “Go to Shamordino.” Or here's an example. Hieroschemamonk Hilarion, the former dean of Optina Pustyn, said: “My married sister suffered a serious illness, and her husband left her to the mercy of fate. They brought her, sick, to Optina to the elder. It was summer. Father went out to the sick woman; looked at her and, blessing her, jokingly said to me: “Well, this rubbish will do just fine with us; take her to Shamordino!” She lived there in an almshouse for about ten years and died, having been tonsured in her cell before her death into the schema.” - Or else. A poor man from Siberia comes and gives his young daughter to the priest. “Take it,” he says, “she doesn’t have a mother, what am I going to do with her?” The elder sends this one too to Shamordino. From these orphan girls, an orphanage was formed there. Among the shelters there was one adopted by an old man from the age of two. Father then asked her: “Who will you be?” The child, who could barely speak, said clearly: “A true nun.” “Be careful not to deceive me,” concluded the priest. From the poor girls and women, an almshouse was formed for about fifteen people. And how many of these there were in the cells, how many more in the community’s dachas! “Father, you have a monastery,” his confessor, Fr., sometimes said to the elder. Theodore. - "And what?" - “Yes, no matter what cell you enter - there is a blind woman, there is a limp, and here she has no legs at all - inevitably everyone is solitary” 65. By the way, Elder Ambrose even in Kozelsk had a special house for charity for those females who did not have full reason. However, it was not only simple, needy, sick and wretched women and girls who found refuge with the elder. Wealthy, educated women, sometimes with a high social position, also came under his roof; they came because life did not give them moral satisfaction, but here, under the guidance of the elder, they began to understand both the true meaning of life and the true happiness of the soul. Since 1888, the elder used to come to Shamordino every year in the warm summer to personally see what the monastery had and what it still lacked. These visits were a great holiday for the sisters. This is how they themselves describe one of these visits, which took place precisely in 1888. We present this description in full, as it paints a picture of the life of Father Fr. Ambrose in Shamordin. “Even in the first days of July, a rumor spread among us that the priest was going to visit us after Kazan; but it seemed to us such an impossible dream that we were afraid to rejoice, afraid to even talk about it. Finally, already a week before the priest’s arrival, this rumor began to be repeated more and more often by those who heard it from him. And we still didn’t dare believe it. Finally, on Monday the 18th, visitors from different directions began to flock to us to meet the priest. Three after three are rushing towards Shamordin. The hotel rooms were all occupied. It was necessary to place some of the visiting monastics in special cells. “Here our doubts ceased, and we began to become convinced that great joy definitely awaited us... Finally, Tuesday arrived. Immediately after mass, at about 7 am, they began to arrange a room for the priest in the church house, in a large room, from where he could hear and even see the service and go to church whenever he pleased. By 9 o'clock the room for the priest was ready. They covered it all with carpets, made a small iconostasis, installed blinds in the window - and all this in less than two hours, since everything was done together, amicably and lively... The church has also changed. The floor was covered with carpets, the pillars and columns were decorated with garlands of ferns and fresh flowers. But an even more festive look was given to it by the joyful, beaming faces of the sisters, who every now and then ran in to find out if anyone had arrived from Optina, if they had heard anything about their dear father. At 4 o'clock, one of our sisters finally arrives with the good news that at 3 o'clock the priest intends to leave Optina, and that we must expect him any minute. This news spread throughout the monastery in an instant, and everyone was already ready. At 5 o'clock a horseman rode up with the news that the priest had already passed Poloshkovo. Everyone immediately gathered in church; the chandelier was lit; a carpet was spread out from the porch to the Holy monastery gates, on both sides of which there were sisters, all in full uniform. At the Holy Gate the priest, Fr. John with St. cross, Mother Superior with our miraculous image of the Kazan Mother of God, treasurer Met. Eleutheria with large bread and prosphora on a platter decorated with fresh flowers, and all the singers. "Sisters! Mother asks you not to talk!" - Our dean repeated the order of our mother, placing the sisters in a line. And there was no time for talking here. Each wanted to concentrate within themselves, to gather, as they say, with their feelings. A deep, reverent silence reigned. The feelings that filled each of us, that we experienced in these minutes, we will never experience again; they do not repeat themselves, they are rare guests on earth; they cannot be conveyed. The bell sounded, the bell rang, and the long-awaited carriage finally appeared and rolled up to the gate, but the door remained locked, and the priest did not show up. 3-4 minutes passed, and finally the priest appeared from the opposite side of the carriage in full uniform - in a mantle and crosses. - They sang: “Today the grace of the Holy Spirit has gathered us, and we have all taken up Your cross and said: Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Meanwhile, the priest made three bows to the ground and, venerating the cross and the image of the Queen of Heaven, took the icon in his hands and, accompanied by his mother, who helped him carry the image, moved towards the church. We all bowed to him to the ground, but no one approached him or crowded him. There were tears in the priest's eyes. And most of those present cried, but quietly, so as not to disturb the silence and harmonious singing of the counter anthem. When the priest entered the church, they sang “It is worthy to eat,” followed by a litany, etc., as is generally customary to greet distinguished visitors. Meanwhile, Father went to the altar, venerated the images, and then went through the southern doors to the grave of the dear late Mother Sophia. It was necessary to see only the expression on the priest’s face at the time when he kissed the image of the Queen of Heaven in the Holy Gate, walked with the icon to the church and prayed at the grave so that it would never be erased from memory! Serious, concentrated, somehow inspired, and his gaze seemed to penetrate the heavens. Upon returning to the church and at the end of his many years, the priest went up to an elevated place, specially prepared for him, sat down in a chair and began to bless all those present. After the blessing, the priest rested for some time, and then on the same day he went out to the church several times, examined it and blessed everyone who happened to be there at that time. In the evening there was an all-night vigil, and the next day a mass and prayer service... After the prayer service there was a procession of the cross around the church and around the entire monastery... Father himself participated in the procession and blessed that all our sick, paralytic and crippled people would also take part in it. So the crowd of sisters and lay people was followed by a train of sick, crippled and paralyzed people, some in a line, some in a cart, some in what... When it was all over, the priest went out to venerate the images; then he went to the grave and the bell tower and prayed everywhere for a long time with prostrations. On the same day, the priest went to Mother’s building, to the chapel of St. Ambrose, even went to the terrace, from where he went to the Tikhonov Chapel, and from there he walked to the hut. Everywhere the priest prayed with prostrations and carefully examined everything. In the hut, stopping in front of a large portrait of Mother Sophia (in the schema), the priest said: “Mother sees everything that is happening here.” - And then, looking at the bookcases, he added: “Read and understand what you read!” From the hut the priest went out the door onto the terrace, walked along the gallery, sat on the steps where dear Mother Sophia loved to sit, and, then descending the stairs, took a few steps down the slope of the mountain. - “And what place did my mother choose for her shack!” The priest walked from the hut into the “silent room.” He really liked everything here: “I didn’t expect that it was so good here,” he said, “I just would have stayed, it seems, to live here with you.” Then, going up to the window and looking through it down to the ravine, he said: “Yes, you just have better Athos here, better Athos.” From the “silence” the priest returned home and did not go anywhere else that day. On Thursday after mass there was a memorial service for Mother Sophia and Mother Ambrosia, and then a general blessing. While the priest was blessing, the singers usually sang to him various church songs: “To the Diligent Intercessor,” the troparion of St. Ambrose, etc. They also sang “Triumph, our monastery.” On the same day, after several other sacred songs, the Easter canon was sung. Meanwhile, the priest had already finished blessing; listened and prayed. When they finished the canon, the priest himself gave his blessing to sing “May God rise again” - and at the end of this song he quickly rose from his place and disappeared behind the door. Singing always had too strong an effect on the priest... That same day in the morning, after a short rest, the priest went to the barnyard, inspected the buildings, went into the “little shelter” and stayed there for a long time. He went into each room, blessed all the children and talked with them. “Big One” told the priest the poems their matron had written, and said them very sweetly. They moved Father to tears. These are the verses. Dear father, holy father! We don’t know how to thank you. You looked after us, you dressed us, You delivered us from poverty. Perhaps now we would all Wandered around the world with a bag, We wouldn't know shelter anywhere, And they would be at odds with fate. And here we pray only to the Creator, So that he doesn’t leave us orphans! These poems were later put on sheet music by some sister. And after that, every time the elder visited a shelter in the community, the children sang this cant for him. The elder listened seriously and thoughtfully to these children's prayers, and often large tears rolled down his sunken cheeks. What he thought at those moments is unknown. But it can be assumed that at that time he turned his heart to the Queen of Heaven and Earth with a prayer not to leave, after his death, the orphans he had gathered under His all-powerful protection. The elder’s attitude towards children was always the most tender, fatherly and affectionate. One of his close spiritual students writes: “I witnessed how the priest, despite his weakness, went to the hospital every day to visit sick children; how he spoiled them - he would give them candy, then gingerbread, caress them, joke.” From the shelter the priest went down to the vegetable gardens. I went to the lodge where our gardeners live, walked through the mountains, blessed all the wells; went to the water pumping station, forced the water to be pumped with him, inspected its construction and returned home straight to the all-night vigil. The next day, after mass and general blessing, the priest, having rested a little, went to the grave. Having prayed and blessed her three times, as always, he went to the place of blessing of water and to the bell tower and again prayed earnestly and for a long time everywhere. From the bell tower he went straight to the refectory. Having prayed here before the image of the Queen of Heaven, he went straight to the abbot’s seat, sat down there and gave his blessing to serve him the entire meal in order. He blessed each dish and, having tasted a little, rang the bell, as mother usually does, giving a sign to the refectories to serve the next dish. The food from the cups blessed by the priest was then poured into cauldrons and buckets, from where they were poured into cups for all the sisters at the meal. From the refectory, the priest went into the kitchen, examined the structure of the stove, stove and boilers, and made orders regarding various changes that he found necessary to make, namely, regarding the expansion of the refectory, as well as the bakery, where he entered directly from the refectory. After inspecting all these economic institutions of ours and sitting for a few minutes in the middle of the courtyard around which these buildings are located, the priest got into his cab and rode in it to the porch in order to save my mother from the great troubles, the every minute repeated requests and orders not to press on the priest, not to crowd him, which she would be forced to use in order to give the priest a free passage from the bakery to the church. The priest himself, sitting near the bakery and examining the location of the buildings, more than once turned to the sisters with a request to stand at a distance so that he could better examine everything. “I’ve seen you more than once, but I haven’t seen the building yet,” he said... That same day, after lunch, the priest went to the hotel, visited some people and returned home at seven o’clock in the evening. As long as the priest was with us, on those days when all-night vigils were not required, we had matins in the evening, following the evening service, so as not to interrupt the priest’s rest in the morning. The priest spent the day like this: after mass, he went out to venerate the icons, then went to the grave, or began to bless everyone... After resting for a while, the priest began to receive visiting visitors, sometimes in his room, sometimes in the church, where he sat down for this on a bench near the candle box. At about 11 o'clock the horse was given to the priest, and he went around the buildings and buildings, accompanied by his mother, who was especially traveling, who helped him get out of the carriage, protected him from the crowd, and with whom he often immediately dealt with the movement of sisters, redistributions, restructuring, etc., and accompanied by a crowd of sisters and lay people running behind the priest's carriage... He returned Father went home at about two o'clock, ate, rested, and after rest he again went around the buildings until all-night vigil or vespers. During his stay with us, the priest visited all the buildings, did not miss a single cell, was in all the sheds and barns... They brought the priest a stretcher prepared for the sisters to carry stones for the construction of the church. Father blessed them and himself tried to see if they were dexterous. Finally, the day of the priest’s departure arrived... After mass, a prayer service and a general blessing, the priest received many sisters and laymen; then they served him something to eat. We all almost went to our cells with the thought that the priest would probably now rest, and there we would again go to the church to guard his exit in order to look at him at least once more; when suddenly someone comes running and says: “Hurry, quickly get ready for church, and in uniform, now there will be a farewell prayer service for the priest.” We all gathered, and it was impossible to recognize that these were the same faces that could still be seen so radiant the day before. Heads are down; who cries, who can barely hold back tears. The silence is deep. A prayer service began for the Queen of Heaven and for those traveling... After the prayer service, the priest, serious, concentrated, venerated the images, went to the grave for the last time, blessed it three times and returned to his room. Having changed his clothes there, he went out again and walked on foot to the “silence”, where, with his blessing, some kind of building was being built that was of great interest to him. Here the priest talked for several minutes with our lucky Kuzma and, having changed his clothes and blessed us, he went back to the church. Here he blessed everyone for the last time and went to his room. The sisters were again placed in two rows, from the church porch to the Holy Gate, where again, as at a meeting, Father Mother with the image of the Queen of Heaven and the singers were waiting. There was silence again, as reverent as before, but with a tinge of hidden sadness... When the priest appeared and the singers sang “It is worthy to eat,” almost everyone began to cry. Father walked quickly and blessed both sides. Where he passed, they bowed at his feet. When, having made three prostrations to the ground before the icon of the Queen of Heaven and venerated it, the priest took it in his arms and, standing at the Holy Gate, blessed the sisters and the monastery with it for the last time, as if entrusting them to the Divine Protection of our zealous Intercessor, we all bowed to the ground together and wept bitterly. The priest, meanwhile, allowed the mother to venerate the icon, again handed it into her hands and quickly disappeared into the carriage. The door slammed and the carriage rushed off. For a long, long time, standing at the Holy Gate, we looked after the retreating carriage and could not move. Some kind of quiet sadness filled my soul, and it was a pity to part with it. How empty it suddenly became in Shamordin, and for a long time we could not get used to this emptiness until we again fell into our usual rut.” In the summer of the following 1889, the elder again spent several days in Shamordin. As in the previous year, he was busy here all day long, either with economic orders and inspection of various buildings and premises, or with receiving monastics and lay people. His lifestyle and activities here this year can be judged by the following story of one laywoman who visited him at that time... “Upon arrival in Shamordino,” she writes in the magazine “Soulful Reading” for 1899, “I was first of all amazed by the huge crowds of people who, from early morning, surrounded the room in which the priest was, in the hope of seeing him and receiving his blessing. And so great was the love of the people for him, so strong was the desire to see him and receive his instruction and consolation, that among this people, who knew no fatigue and came from distant countries, there were those who waited for two weeks and did not lose hope of being accepted by him, Father Fr. Ambrose. When I came closer, I learned that they were waiting for the priest to come out - he would now go to visit an almshouse, an orphanage and other charitable institutions that he had established with the assistance of benefactors. Not being able to squeeze through to the exit, I stood back. The doors opened; the people became agitated, exclamations were heard: “Father, you are ours, father!”... Here he is, beloved Father Ambrose, already bent over, but a splendid old man, simple, affectionate, approachable; only his insightful eyes shone with wisdom and penetrated into the very depths of the soul. Having blessed those closest to him from the crowd, the elder got into the carriage and walked along the monastery. The people did not lag behind - they ran on the sides and in front and behind, catching his gaze, his blessing hand, and, joyful, gave way to others. I watched from afar this soul-touching and completely new spectacle for me. That same day, in the evening, an all-night vigil was held in the small house church of the Shamordino monastery. The nuns sang and read harmoniously and reverently. The pilgrims prayed earnestly. And in the dark corridor adjacent to the church, the newcomers again crowded together, languishing since early morning and patiently waiting for the treasured door to open to the priest’s cell, illuminated by the lamp burning in front of the icon. Who stood and who sat here. And right by the door, leaning her head against the wall out of weakness, sat a young, sick nun, and there was also some young woman sobbing hysterically. The door opened. Everyone perked up. The priest, all in white, looking at everyone vigilantly, took the sick nun by the hand and led her in behind him. The door closed again. At this time, the crying woman screamed: “Father, take me too! Otherwise I will die of grief,” and she began to sob even harder. Suddenly the door opened again. The priest looked at her with a kind smile and said: “Who is going to die here? They’ll probably have to bury them. Well, go, go.” The door closed behind them again. And when this grieving woman came out, her face brightened. Although tears were still rolling down her face, they were no longer the same tears, and something joyful and calm shone in her eyes. When I asked her with sympathy whether the priest had consoled her, she said: “Oh, how he consoled her! Just like my own father! Only my grief is very great—it won’t be cured soon!” At that moment, singing came from the church: “Praise the name of the Lord, praise the servants of the Lord!” Deeply moved by everything I saw, I prayed, asking God for great mercy - to be accepted by the great elder. Several minutes passed, the cell opened again. The priest himself appeared in it and called me by name... I shuddered with joy and, making the sign of the cross, followed him into his small cell, half-lit by the setting sun."... Having revealed her grief to the elder - the anticipation of the upcoming terrible operation and having received his blessing - not to be afraid of anything, not to do the operation and to pray to God, and the elder reminded her of the grave sins she had forgotten, the narrator continues: “It is impossible to describe and express in words what was felt in my soul then. It was both awe of the righteous man, who with his insight penetrated my sinful and suffering soul, and some kind of unearthly, enthusiastic joy from communication, the spirit of this spiritual world... When, late in the evening, we gathered in the monastery hotel, in the corridor people crowded into a circle, who had come from different and distant sides, strangers, strangers to each other, but here they had become acquainted and openly, in a brotherly way, sharing their joy and their impressions about the consolation, admonition or wise advice spoken by the priest... Early in the morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, the same joyful mood again captured my soul, the same reverence for the gracious old man and ardent, selfless love for him. Leaving the hotel, I looked with emotion at the windows of that modest, humble cell where our dear father was then located; I bowed down to him, asking in absentia for his holy prayers for my sinful soul; and joyful, happy, she left this still young monastery, which she would not have exchanged then for all the treasures of the world. On the way back, I religiously fulfilled everything that was ordered to me by my father. According to the prayers of the elder, my illness has not returned to me since then, and this has already been nine years.” The summer of 1890 arrived, the last summer of Fr. Ambrose in the monastery and in the Optina Hermitage, since it was this summer that he made his last trip to Shamordino, from where he never returned to Optina until his death. At one time there were many rumors and assumptions of various kinds about this last stay of Elder Ambrose in Shamordin. According to his biography, Fr. Archimandrite Agapit, “everyone interpreted the elder in his own way; many people tried and condemned him. Throughout all the places in Russia where the name of Elder Ambrose was known, an angry word about him spread.” They condemned him both for leaving the monastery and for staying in the women's monastery. They indicated the persons because of whom the elder supposedly had to leave Optina Pustyn. All these rumors and assumptions do not, of course, deserve any trust. Having lived in the Optina Hermitage monastery for 50 years, during this long time the elder, of course, experienced a lot of all kinds of sorrows and troubles and, however, did not find it necessary to leave the monastery. Now, in his declining years, having achieved the highest experience and wisdom in discerning the various paths of God’s Providence in human life, having become accustomed to relying entirely on the good and all-perfect will of God in everything, now would he not have suffered new sorrows and decided to cowardly walk away from them! This seems to us completely incredible, in disagreement with all of life, with all the instructions of the elder, with the covenants of the eldership, of which he was a vigilant guardian. Such an assumption could only arise in the minds of those people who did not know or understand the great old man at all. More likely is the assumption that the elder moved to Shamordino in order to more closely and directly observe the progress of affairs there and the buildings and work being carried out there, also to guide the spiritual life of the newly established monastery. In Shamordin, from the very opening of the community, large buildings were made; therefore there were many workers there, but there was no good supervision over them. The new abbess herself was in poor health and did not have proper experience in economic affairs. She also did not have enough experienced assistants. Then, neither the monastery under construction nor the elder himself had any material resources, although no one knew this. Everyone was sure, on the contrary, judging by the work being done, that the elder’s funds were inexhaustible. How could one not be sure of this when, to complete all the Shamordino buildings, the elder decided to erect a huge stone church in the community, the construction of which began in 1889. All these complex and varied economic and spiritual undertakings and concerns prompted the elder, as some believe, to move to Shamordino for personal orders on the spot. Be that as it may, one must, however, think that both the elder’s move to Shamordino and his long stay here depended not so much on the will of the elder himself, but on “the special providence of God,” as the elder said. There is reason to think that the elder, leaving the monastery, had a presentiment that he would not return to it. In previous years, when he went to Shamordino in the summer, he always took his senior cell attendant, Hieromonk Joseph, there with him; now he left Fr. Joseph to the monastery, as if foreshadowing his future appointment, and took with him his youngest cell attendant, Fr. Isaiah. There was another wonderful incident. Shortly before leaving Fr. Ambrose from the monastery was sent to him a large, beautifully painted icon “The Helper of Sinners,” which was placed in Fr. Joseph, adjacent to Elder's. Leaving for Shamordino for the last time, the elder told Fr. Joseph should place this icon above his head and light an unquenchable lamp in front of it, which was done by Fr. Joseph after the elder's departure. Thus, leaving the monastery, Fr. Ambrose seemed to entrust him, and with him the entire Optina monastery, to the Mother of God! One more circumstance. On the very day of departure, having instructed the brethren to serve a farewell prayer service before the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God in the cathedral, Fr. Ambrose sent one of his spiritual daughters to Kozelsk to serve a prayer service for him there before the miraculous Akhtyrka Icon of the Mother of God, which had also not been done before. Finally, the 2nd of July arrived, and the elder left the monastery, heading to the Shamordinskaya dacha - Rudnevo 66. On the day of the elder’s departure the weather was most favorable. The day was clear and warm. The farewell was crowded. Although the elder, with his blessing, was accompanied only by his cell attendant, Fr. Isaiah, who prepared him for the journey and carried everything he needed, but the next day a crowd of admirers appeared in Rudnev, including Optina monks with their spiritual needs. In general, during the elder’s stay in Shamordino, Optina’s brethren, from senior to junior, visited him daily: they could not remain without his spiritual guidance and, in addition to correspondence, hurried at the first opportunity personally to Shamordino. The monks who went to pray at Tikhon’s monastery did not bypass Shamordin either, in order to first ask for the elder’s blessing. Why, however, did the elder not go directly to Shamordino, as was done before, but to Rudnevo? There was the following reason for this. Shortly before the elder’s departure from the monastery, a letter was delivered to him from an unknown “lover of piety.” This letter said that many years ago, on a landowner’s estate, which now belongs to the Shamorda community under the name of the Rudnevskaya dacha, a well was dug by some ascetics, which quenched the thirst of many travelers, and now this place is neglected. Even before receiving this letter, in the fall of 1889, the abbess of the Shamorda community, Mother Euphrosinia, while one day in Rudnev and observing work there near the planter, felt that her foot was falling into the ground... She told about this to the elder, by whose order they began to dig the ground opposite the place where the abbess had fallen and soon attacked the frame of the well. A source of water was discovered; but strangely, everyone said the same thing: when they began to give this water to those possessed by demons, their suffering increased. Going to Shamordino on July 2, 1890, the elder decided to personally visit Rudnev first. Having arrived there, the elder himself examined the place near the dug well, a little lower. He first began to pray, ordering everyone who was with him to pray. After the prayer, he himself began to dig the ground, and then ordered others to dig as well. When water appeared, the elder ordered a second well to be built here. The well was brought into a comfortable state, and then the priest sent some sick people to it to drink water from it; He also distributed water and clay from it, which turned out to be healing. Afterwards, a shed was built near the healing well, adapted to be doused with water. After spending one day in Rudnev, the elder arrived from there to Shamordino. Arrival of Fr. Ambrose in Shamordino here evoked the usual joy of the sisters, who greeted him as their dear father. Days passed after days. The elder’s stay in the monastery dragged on. Instead of the ten days suggested by the elder, he has been living in Shamordin for four weeks already. Father, according to people close to him, was constantly planning to leave, but one thing delayed him, then another. The priest, apparently, was in a hurry: he was tirelessly at all the buildings and received the people who flocked to Shamordino in huge numbers: monks, nuns and laymen. There were not enough hotels for visitors; At night people occupied the entire square opposite the hotels. In the last days of July, the priest finally got ready to leave for Optina and ordered that on the appointed day, in the morning, everything should be prepared for his departure. This became known in Optina as well. And therefore, by six o’clock in the evening, people had already begun to gather near the monastery, others went to the ferry, and some even went across the river to meet the priest. However, by 8 o’clock in the evening, news was received from Shamordin that the priest would not come today, that everything was already ready for his departure, but he suddenly felt so weak that he could not only go, nor even receive anyone. We were expecting the priest at Optina Pustyn the next day. But on this day the same thing happened again: in the morning the elder received visitors in Shamordin, got ready to leave, and in the evening, at the same hours as yesterday, he felt very unwell. I had to postpone my departure indefinitely. The Assumption Fast began, during which the elder confessed everyone without refusal, starting with the archimandrite and the Optina monks and ending with the multitude of lay people. By August 29, the skete holiday, the elder again began to gather for the skete. They began to serve him a farewell prayer service. However, he again felt so ill that he had to abandon all thoughts of leaving. They even said that the elder was found lying on the floor in extreme exhaustion. It is remarkable that the elder, who became extremely painfully exhausted when trying to go to Optina, at the same time made repeated trips to Rudnevo and felt completely cheerful. After the elder’s last unsuccessful attempt to return to the monastery for the feast of the Beheading of John the Baptist, it became clear to everyone that the elder would have to stay in Shamordino for the whole winter. At this time the weather was already changing to autumn, and the elder could not go out when it was less than 15 degrees Celsius. The Optina monks were worried and worried about the long absence of the elder. Rector, Fr. Archimandrite Isaac was greatly grieved. The elder consoled him, urging him to humble himself under the strong hand of God, and sent a handwritten letter to the Optina brethren, in which, among other things, it was said: “I have stayed in Shamordin until now by the special providence of God; and why - this should appear later.” This letter was read aloud to all the brethren at the monastery meal. Meanwhile, in Shamordin, a winter quarters was being prepared for the elder. Having made sure that the elder would stay with them throughout the winter, the sisters were delighted. Remaining in Shamordin for an indefinite time, Fr. Ambrose established the same way of life here as in the monastery. Just as in the skete, he listened to the prescribed prayers every day. Also, on holidays, he had all-night vigils, which at first he served himself, that is, he uttered exclamations and read the Gospel in due time, and the sisters sang and read what was required. Those moments were wonderful, the Shamorda eyewitnesses note, when a bent old man, in a short robe and stole, with an open gray head, came out into the middle of the room, and in a childish, senile, weak voice, he read clearly the words of the gospel of Christ, of which he himself was a zealous performer and preacher... However, this did not last long. The sickly old man was unable to serve himself. For this purpose, for the most part, its former clerk, hieromonk Fr., came from the monastery. V. Elder Ambrose always had a special reverence for the Mother of God, which is why he did not miss a single feast of the Theotokos without sending St. icon of the cell vigil. In 1890, the abbess of the Bolkhov Convent sent him to the monastery a special icon of the Mother of God, painted on the instructions of the elder. The Queen of Heaven is represented sitting on the clouds. Her hands are stretched out for blessing. And below, among the grass and flowers, rye sheaves stand and lie. Sheaves of Rye were written according to the desire and purpose of Fr. Ambrose, who gave this icon the name “Spreader of the Loaves.” The elder offered fervent prayers before this icon; He taught and forced his spiritual children, whom he had gathered in the community, to pray before her. In the last year of his life, he took photographs from this icon and distributed and sent them to many of his outside admirers. And shortly before his last illness, he composed a special chorus in honor of this icon to the usual akathist to the Mother of God: “Rejoice, O Blessed One, the Lord is with Thee! Grant us, the unworthy, the dew of Thy grace and show Thy mercy!” The sisters sang this refrain with the elder’s blessing when the akathist to the Mother of God was read in his cell. The elder commanded his spiritual children to celebrate this icon on October 15th. Diligent prayer before this icon of the Mother of God was more than once accompanied by miracles of the mercy of the Most Holy Theotokos. So a photograph from this icon was sent to the Pyatnitskaya women's community of the Voronezh diocese. On the occasion of a severe drought, which threatened imminent famine, a prayer service was performed there before her; after which it soon began to rain, and the monastery and its surroundings were saved from hunger. They also say that in the spring of 1897, or so, the priest of the village. Ozersky came to Rudnevo as a parish pastor, and there, on the occasion of lack of rain, he served a prayer service to the Mother of God in the fields before Her St. icon “The Spreader of the Loaves”, with an akathist. During the service of the prayer service, it began to rain for a long time. When, after the prayer service, a memorial service was served for Elder Ambrose, it began to rain heavily. With incessant prayer, the elder combined various concerns about establishing internal order in his young monastery: about the orderly conduct of church services, about reasonable and intelligible reading and singing, about the proper attitude of the sisters towards their boss and among themselves, etc. Then the elder continued to be involved in all household affairs. All buildings were carried out according to his plan and instructions. Having called from the monastery some monks who understood construction and economics in general, the elder made his orders through them. In addition, the elder continued to receive people from morning to evening and correspond with those who asked him for advice and guidance. So time passed unnoticed until December 7th, Father’s Angel Day. The Shamordino monastery celebrated this day with special solemnity. On the eve of this day, several hieromonks arrived from Optina, led by the rector of the Optina Hermitage, Archimandrite Isaac. They served a vigil and the next day the cathedral liturgy with a prayer service to the saint, with the proclamation of many years to the birthday boy. Then all those who served came to congratulate the priest on Angel Day. His face at this time seemed very pale and exhausted. Accepting with gratitude congratulations from the monks, he only humbly repeated everything: “We’ve done a lot for the parade.” Afterwards, the brothers and all the sisters came to congratulate the dear birthday boy. Each of them brought him some gift of her work, some - a rosary, some - socks, some - a sweatshirt, some - an icon... Father with a cheerful face accepted gifts from them, thanked everyone, joked and gave him cake and delicacies. Despite, however, the apparent gaiety, Fr. Ambrose was deeply grieved internally. On New Year's Day, when they came to congratulate him, he did not come out for a long time and did not receive anyone. Finally, everyone was called into the reception room, the priest sat on the sofa and, instead of congratulating and greeting, forced his spiritual daughter, who had arrived from Optina Hermitage, to read the Trinity Leaf, which ended with the shepherd’s prayer for his children, where he says to the Lord: “Behold, I and my children...” and says goodbye to his flock. Everyone present felt sad. Many brought tears to their eyes. The old man himself cried. During Holy Week 1891, a person close to the elder brought him an image of the Savior wearing a crown of thorns, which she had found on his instructions. Father accepted the image with great joy and said: “Well, what is better than this crown of thorns!” - and kissed the image. Then he added: “It’s good to be at the Savior’s cross, but it’s even better to suffer for Him on this cross.” When the elder uttered these words, his face was somehow special: something unearthly shone in his eyes. Holy Easter has arrived. On the first day of the holiday, after the liturgy, the abbess, as usual, came to congratulate the elder on the bright holiday; and after her, all the sisters and some lay people came to “confess Christ” with the priest, who served everyone a red egg and a piece of Easter cake and Easter cake. Truly, the Shamorda sisters note, it was a bright holiday. Everyone was happy. And how could it be otherwise? Easter - and the great elder shares this great celebration together. Every day, throughout Bright Week, the sisters sang Matins, Hours and Vespers with him. Father himself sang along; sometimes he set the tone for the singers, corrected mistakes and made various comments. At the end of the week, when the singers began to thank the elder for the consolation that he gave them this Easter, he affectionately said to them: “Save, Lord!” And then he added: “You will remember this Saint.” No one understood or could understand then these words with which the elder hinted at his impending death. With the onset of summer, Fr. Ambrose resumed his walks. He walked around the buildings and went to Rudnevo, where he sometimes stayed for two weeks. If any holiday happened, he would certainly return to Shamordino - “home,” as he said. This summer, a man of God named Gavryusha, about forty years old, came to the elder in Shamordino, one of those whom the Lord likened to children, saying that such is the Kingdom of God. He lived in the Livensky district of the Oryol province, was relaxed, his whole body was shaking and could barely speak or eat. His legs did not work; he lay and prayed to God. They noted that much was revealed to him. In the last spring, Elder Ambrose appeared to him and said: “Come to me in Shamordino, I will calm you down.” At the same time, he stood up and announced that he was going to Shamordino. But since his legs were very weak and his gait was uneven, they wanted to transport him by rail, but he refused this service. He met the elder near Shamordin. He was quietly driving from somewhere. There were people around him. “Father! - Gavryusha shouted in his incomprehensible language, “you called me, I came.” Father immediately got out of the carriage, approached him and said: “Great, dear guest! Well, live here." And he added to those around him: “I’ve never had anything like this before.” Father was very affectionate to Gavryusha. He arranged a corner for him in Shamordin, and later in Rudnev, and Gavryusha kept wanting to go there. - “Father! I don’t want to go to Shamordin; Let's go to Rudnevo; I want to go to Rudnevo.” And the priest kept reassuring him that when they prepared a room for Gavryusha in Rudnev, they would go there. It was touching to watch how the priest was engaged in a conversation with Gavryusha, and how they walked around the cell: one hobbling on bowed legs, and the other, bent over, leaning on his cane. We have already said above that Fr. Ambrose experienced great spiritual sorrow in Shamordin, about which he sometimes expressed hints to those around him, indirectly, and sometimes directly, as, for example, once to the sisters around him: “Mothers and sisters! I’m here on your cross!” And indeed, his life, according to those close to him, was impossibly difficult at that time. Neither day nor night he had peace, both due to the inconvenience of the premises (which until his death everything was just being arranged and prepared), and from the multitude of affairs and people surrounding him. His heart also ached for the Optina residents who were left without their spiritual leader. When one of them came to him, the priest no longer made him wait long, but received and consoled him with special love. But very often after such visits he became extremely preoccupied and upset. Sometimes they would bring him lunch, he would stand in his cell, and then they would take him back, and he wouldn’t touch anything. Moreover, over time, the elder’s health began to weaken to the last extreme, and the murmur of visitors against him increased, since especially now, with a huge crowd of people, many of them had to wait a very long time for his reception. And the elder would have been glad to satisfy everyone, but his strength completely left him. Often one had to see him, as the Shamorda sisters say, lying on his back in complete exhaustion. His pale, exhausted face expressed suffering; his voice completely left him, and his eyes were closed. When looking at the half-dead old man, my heart sank with pity. He himself often said with sorrow: “They don’t believe that I’m weak, they grumble.” And yet this half-dead seventy-nine-year-old man not only never lost his presence of mind, but was also always calm and cheerful, as in the most favorable circumstances, and with his gaiety and humorous stories he knew how to disperse the darkest despondency in those around him. During this last winter of his stay in the Shamorda community, all the sisters of the monastery, due to the elder’s excessive weakness and various other troubles, were once in a particularly gloomy mood. The sickly old man gathered his last strength and with a cheerful look went out into the room where the sisters had gathered. At first, he said something to some of them one by one as a consolation, which made all their faces gradually clear up; and finally, in front of everyone, he made everyone laugh so much that they dispersed the last remnants of despondency. And another time, the sisters surrounding the elder began to say to him with sorrow: “What happiness we have to live with you and have you, father! And when the time comes, you will no longer be with us. What are we going to do then? - Father smiled, looked at everyone present with such love with which he alone could look, and, shaking his head reproachfully, said to them: “If I’ve been fussing with you here, then you certainly won’t be able to leave you there.” After Easter 1891, the elder suffered a new unexpected sorrow. The abbess of the monastery he had chosen, Mother Euphrosyne, his closest assistant and executor of his plans, became seriously ill. Entering his cell one day on some business, she suddenly felt very unwell. Her face went blank, her breathing stopped, she almost fell. The old man was confused. He himself, barely moving his legs, approached the apparently dying woman, then called the sisters, who laid her on the sofa that stood nearby; then the elder, looking at her and as if asking her not to leave him, depressed by illness and sorrow, said in a voice trembling with emotion: “Mother, breathe again!” And soon, through the prayers of the elder, her breathing resumed, and she received the Holy Mysteries of Christ. After this incident, M. Euphrosyne began to go blind. By mid-summer, she could no longer see anything - she could only distinguish between white and black. Weighed down by the position of abbess due to loss of vision, she asked the elder to allow her to submit her resignation, but the elder did not give his blessing, saying: “Don’t give it yourself, but if the authorities tell you to give it, then give it.” At the same time, he tried in every possible way to console her and encourage her, saying: “Mother! Endure and do not lose heart!” To top off all the elder’s sorrows, he was also beset by the displeasure of the diocesan authorities, which became especially aggravated towards the end of his life. In 1890, a new bishop, moved from Tambov, His Eminence Vitaly, was appointed to Kaluga. He arrived at the diocese in the fall, when Elder Ambrose already had his stay in the Shamorda community. His Grace Vitaly really wanted to see Elder Ambrose, known to the entire Orthodox world, but, having learned that the elder lived in a nunnery, he hesitated to go to Optina Hermitage, waiting for the elder to return to the monastery. Meanwhile, time passed, and the elder did not return. This was unpleasant for the bishop, especially since the elder moved to Shamordino without the permission of his diocesan authorities. Spread by ill-wishers about. Ambrose, absurd rumors about him regarding his stay in Shamordin reached the bishop and confused him even more, so that he even said with alarm: “What is this they are doing there?” - and several times instructed the dean of the monasteries to demand that the elder immediately return to his monastery. The sickly, dying old man, of course, could not carry out this order, but in Kaluga they did not believe this and took his words as just an empty excuse. They began to threaten the elder that he would be taken by force to Optina, to which he replied: “I know that I will not get to Optina; If they take me away from here, I’ll die on the road.” Strictly speaking, the diocesan authorities had no reason to worry and could have treated the elder with the same trust and reverence with which, for example, the great prayer book Fr. John of Kronstadt, who told the Shamordin sisters who came to him: “Ah, this is from Elder Ambrose; oh great old man! Prostration to him from me!” But, obviously, someone needed to darken the last days of Fr. Ambrose, to increase the weight of the cross he carried, so that the words of the Lord were fulfilled on it: “Blessed are the expulsions of righteousness for the sake of them: for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs. Blessed are you when they revile you, and ridicule you, and say all sorts of evil things about you lying, for my sake. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is abundant in heaven: for I have driven out the prophets who went before you.” (Matthew 5:10–12). Having loved his last and most beloved child, the Shamordino monastery, with his last and strongest love, the elder, enduring great sorrows for this monastery, thereby showed that if you loved your own beings in the world, love them to the end. (In. 13:1), he loved not in word or in tongue, but in deed and truth (1 John 3:18). In the spring, a rumor spread that the bishop, upset by various rumors and messages, said: “I myself will go to Shamordino, put the elder in a carriage and take him to Optina!” When one of the elder’s spiritual daughters conveyed to him these words of the Right Reverend, Fr. Ambrose replied: “As the Lord my God lives, and as my soul lives; and you know that above all rulers there is a Supreme Lord; I’m not going to go to Optina; and where will I go now?! Unless…” And the elder said his last words so quietly that they could not be heard. Another nun, also alarmed by the rumors circulating, turned to the elder: “Father! They say that the Bishop is coming here; what will you tell him? “I will say,” the elder answered quietly, “I will say: seek first the will of God...” At this time Fr. Ambrose had already begun to hint to many, although they did not understand or did not want to, they were afraid to understand it, about his imminent death. His spiritual son K.N. Leontiev, who lived in Optina Pustyn, came to him to receive his blessing to go to Moscow for treatment. Saying goodbye to him, the elder repeatedly hugged him, saying: “Forgive me, forgive me!” Such a farewell seemed significant to Leontyev. And indeed, it was the last. Throughout the summer of 1891, they waited in Shamordin for their new archpastor. The abbess and sisters were worried and worried, and turned to the elder with various questions. - “Father! How should we greet the Bishop?” The elder answered: “We are not him, but he will meet us!” - “What should the bishop sing?” - The elder said: “We will sing alleluia to him!” They also once told him: “They say that the Bishop wants to ask you a lot.” He replied: “We will talk to him quietly, no one will hear!” With such answers, the elder obviously hinted at his imminent death, but none of those around him at that time understood these hints. Some sisters even had a premonition of the priest’s imminent death, but they did not want to believe him; on the contrary, they thought that it was impossible for the elder to die so soon. These are the lines we read in the diary of one sister close to the elder: “Despite the great happiness that the priest is with us, the whole premonition of something terrible did not give me peace; and the thought - whether our father was spending his last days with us - poisoned everything. I was afraid to talk to anyone about this, lest I hear from others that they too had the same thoughts. Once, in a conversation with my mother, I decided to ask how she thought about this. My mother also told me that she was afraid to be very happy - God knows how long it will be like this. This thought has probably occurred to many people. From the priest we never heard any direct indication of his imminent death. Some of his orders seemed to indicate this; but then everything was explained somehow differently, and only after the death of the elder did everything become clear.” A few months before the death of the priest, one St. Petersburg artist, who sometimes turned to the elder for financial help, sent him the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God, a copy of Her miraculous image, and with it the names of his family, asking the priest to pray for them. Father ordered to put a note in the icon case for the icon and said: “The Queen of Heaven Herself will pray for them.” One poor family man, whom the priest had helped many times, before his last illness, wrote to the elder with a request to help him buy warm clothes. Father sent him as much as he needed, and at the same time added at the end of his letter: “Remember that this is the last help from me to you.” The nun who had to write this note says that “her last words did not bother me at all. I explained them to myself in such a way that I needed to write this to him as a warning so that he wouldn’t get his hopes up too much.” One day, a visiting abbess, sitting in the reception cell waiting to receive the priest, saw drops appearing like myrrh on the icon of the Savior in the Crown of Thorns, which had been standing on his table for a long time in the reception room, and reported this to the mother. When they brought the icon to the priest, telling him about the miraculous drops that appeared on it, he looked at it for a long time and said: “There will be sorrows both for the one who first saw this and for those living here.” A few days after the departure of this abbess, the priest received a letter from her in which she notified him that immediately upon returning to her monastery she had to endure unexpectedly great sorrow. It was early September; and a month later, the Shamordino monastery had to experience the loss of the unforgettable great elder, father and benefactor. That same autumn, the elder said in a joking tone to the sisters around him: “Look, there will be autumn here and there, and the ducks and geese will get it.” Then, grinning, he added: “The geese will drag, and the ducks will cry.” The appearance of the elder at this last time of his life can be judged by the following excerpt from a letter from one candidate of the Moscow Theological Academy, who visited the elder at the end of August, a month and a half before his death: “When I entered the room and - I must admit - not without some trembling and sinking hearts, I saw a little old man (he was once tall), about eighty years old, in a simple warm cassock and a monastic cap, sitting in a chair, pale and weak to the last degree. The skin barely fits the bones, the lower lip is shaking, and you think that he is about to die. If anything is alive in this almost dead body, it is the eyes - small, light brown, radiant, kind, observant and insightful. All life seems to be concentrated in them, and they present an amazing contrast with the deathly pallor of the face and the amazing weakness of the body. Truly, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And indeed, what courage one had to have to endure the difficult situation in which the elder was then! In the community he founded there were more than 300 sisters, a shelter, an almshouse, and a hospital. It's a hungry year, so bread is expensive. The monastery accumulated a large debt. The abbess is blind. The elder himself is in disgrace with his superiors, disgraced, on the edge of the grave... Only the grace of God supported the elder under such circumstances! By the way, let us present here an excerpt from a recently found and not yet published letter from the elder to K. N. Leontyev, in which he expresses his opinion about monasticism in relation to the attacks on this ancient institution that appeared in the press at that time. ...The opinion that in monasteries the monk and hieromonk should be educated would have some probability if the twelve chosen disciples of Christ the Savior were educated. But the Lord, in order to disgrace human pride and arrogance, chose simple fishermen as disciples, who simply and quickly believed in his teaching. And in order to convert and lead the educated Saul to faith, it was necessary to first punish him with blindness. Because the educated believe uncomfortably and do not easily humble themselves, inflated with scientific knowledge. It is true that there are bad personalities in monasteries too. But evil always and everywhere mixed with good and always seemed to run ahead. Cain was born before Abel, Esau before Jacob. Between the three sons of Noah, who saw the flood, the hated Ham appeared again. Among the chosen disciples of Christ the Savior was Judas the traitor. The evil always persecuted the good, but did not prevail, but were always ashamed and humiliated. It is worse if the evil ones are educated, such as, for example, the heretical Arians. How much evil and insult they have done to faithful Christians and the Church of Christ in general. If an eloquent preacher against monasticism had lived in some deserted monastery for at least three months and attended all church services, getting up every morning at two o’clock or earlier, then he would have learned by experience how monks in monasteries do nothing. No matter how bad monasticism is, the evil Satan wants in every possible way to destroy bad monasticism. Apparently, it is salty for him and greatly hinders his intrigues and wiles. That is why he incites the educated people who are submissive to himself against the monastics. Monks, according to St. Demetrius of Rostov, dry stakes that support the grapes of the Church of Christ. Grapes that are not supported by stakes cannot bear fruit, being choked by grasses from below. The lofty talkers explain that they do nothing in the monastery, but eat bread for nothing. However, none of them expresses the desire and zeal to enter the monastery on free bread. Many would rather beg around the world than enter a monastery. There is an anecdote about a gypsy who had to live in a monastery during the first week of Lent. From where he secretly fled and, seeing a man who was leading a dog into the forest to strangle, said to him: “Take him to the monastery, and he will die.” Every society needs educated, average and simple people. If everyone were educated, then who would do the lesser tasks... To characterize one of these girls, Lyubov, the following story is given by her nanny, now living in the almshouse of the Shamordino Monastery, 80-year-old old woman Alexandra: “When Lyubov was still four years old, one day, on Holy Week, on Wednesday, when the Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts had not yet departed in the monastery (we were then living near the Optina Hermitage), I wanted to drink some coffee (and usually we didn’t eat anything until the end of the liturgy and didn’t drink tea). I started making myself coffee and prepared a cup. Lyuba sits and watches, says nothing. I made coffee, began to pour it, and Lyuba suddenly said: “Nanny, but it’s a sin.” So my hands gave up.” Monk means solitary, alone. Rudnevo is seven miles away from Shamordin along the road, and three miles along the nearest pedestrian road. You might be interested in: