It was a misty morning in the city of N.
An elderly nun was getting nervous as she looked at the clock on the wall of
the hotel hall. Guests were late. Her eyes were watering from strain but she
could hardly see the road through the gray fog.
- Mother
Salomia, why are you so nervous? Your guests will come soon, what else would
they do? – Andrew chuckled, as he was chewing his sandwich.
Lida looked
at her husband and sighed,
- Why are you pestering Mother Salomia? She
worries about others, unlike you.
A bus came in view round the bend. Nun Salomia ran
outside, and the newly-weds looked at the newcomers out of the window with
interest.
Pilgrims entered the hall of The Ancyra in just a couple of minutes. Lida
figured out that there were eight of them: an elderly couple, two mums with
kids, a dwarfish old man who looked as if he were 100, and a girl wearing a
miniskirt and high-heeled shoes. Nun Salomia smiled cheerfully as she was
telling the pilgrims about the life at the guesthouse.
– We are like
one big family. The Pilgrim's House has four floors. We almost never have spare
rooms. This is understandable because so many people want to visit our convent.
I have been on obedience here for five years already. Please feel free to
contact me anytime with all your questions! We will find some work for everyone
who wishes to take part in the daily life of the convent, so I hope that your
stay here will be useful for your soul. Now let me introduce myself. I am Nun
Salomia, and they – Nun Salomia pointed at the young couple – are Andrew and
Lida. You will get to know the rest of our guests a little bit later.
The guests
introduced themselves one by one. The old man was the only one who kept silent.
Andrew looked at him closely with growing interest, and soon he was unable to
contain his curiosity:
– Well,
Grandpa, what's your name?
– Micah, -
the pilgrim replied and frowned.
– So you are
Michael? – Lida wondered.
- No, I
am not Michael. My name is Micah! – the old man retorted, and everyone could
see that the old man had a character!
There was a tradition at The Ancyra to read the morning and evening
prayers in turn. There was a small iconostasis on every floor, and the pilgrims
gathered for prayer at one and the same time. The newcomers joined in the
prayer today. Only the old Micah and Ruslan were missing. Ruslan was a so
called “deviant youth” who had been forced by his mother to come to the
convent. The boy was brought up by the single mother, and by the time he was
fourteen, he was absolutely out of control. It was evident that this pilgrimage
was unlikely to be beneficial for him. Ruslan did not want to attend the
services, he shunned work and skipped the prayer rule most of the time. Frankly
speaking, there was only one place where the boy could sit for hours, not
thinking about anything, just gazing at the beauty of the sky full of stars.
One day, when he was wandering around the building of the guesthouse, he
noticed that the door leading to the attic was unlocked. The windows were shut
and fastened with planks, making it impossible for anyone to get out onto the roof,
but the attic itself was much more interesting than the rest of the guesthouse.
Ruslan found a small ramshackle stool in a pile of old stuff and began to use
it as a table. He had used to take his dinner into his room, despite his
mother’s protests, and then eat it secretly in the attic, gazing out of the
window at the black sky, when everyone went to the prayer rule.
However,
today the privacy of the youth was violated. The old Micah appeared at the
door. He gave the boy a stern look, saw the empty plate and quickly got the
grasp of the situation. He grumbled,
– Done?
Ruslan was
embarrassed but soon pulled himself up. He rose up from the floor and perked up
his head,
– Yeah. So
what?
– If you’re
done with your meal, get out of here, I’m going to pray.
The boy
paused for a moment, searching for the most appropriate answer, and then
snorted,
– No way! I
was the first to come here.
The old man
did not say anything. He approached the window, yanked the curtain and sighed
when he figured out that it was closed. Ruslan smirked,
– You wanted
to climb onto the roof, didn’t you?
– Yes, I
always pray on the roof at home. Okay, dude, stop jabbering. If you don’t want
to leave, don’t interrupt me, or else I’ll send you down the ladder.
Ruslan was
somehow convinced that the old man wasn’t joking.
The old Micah
made the sign of the cross and started mumbling the Our Father. He finished one
prayer, took a short breath and started the same prayer all over again. At
first, Ruslan thought that the old man forgot what he had prayed about but soon
realised that he wouldn’t be hearing any other prayer from the old man. After
about forty minutes, Micah stopped, made the sign of the cross and slowly
dragged himself to the door. The boy was consumed with curiosity,
– Hey, wait!
Why did you read just one prayer?
– I don’t
know any other prayer.
– How can that be? Aren’t you Orthodox?
He saw that
he could not expect an explanation from the old man.
– Why do you
pray on the roof?
– I am closer
to God because of that, – the old man shrugged his shoulders and vanished in
darkness.
Ruslan sat by
the window for a while and went to his room.
Three days
passed. The old man would pray in the attic every day, and the boy would sit in
the corner and watch him. It seemed to Ruslan that there was a mystery of some
sort. The old man was certainly unusual! A normal believer could never be
seriously convinced that the higher you climb, the closer to God you get!
Stranger yet was the fact that he did not know any prayers, except for the Our
Father.
A sudden blow
for the entire guesthouse happened on the fourth day. Someone stole Lida's
purse. Not that there was a lot of money, but that was not the case... The
woman saw her acquaintance and left the purse on the table in the hall.
While they were having a chat, the purse disappeared. Who could have taken it?
All the pilgrims were taken aback.
While
everyone discussed the theft, the old Micah climbed the stairs to the attic as
usual. Ruslan would always be waiting for him there. They did not talk with one
another all that time. Each one did his own job — the old man prayed, and the
youth watched. However, something was different this time. The old man suddenly
ordered the youth:
– Get up,
let's pray.
The youth did
not raise his eyes.
– Can you hear me? Get up.
Ruslan rose
to his feet obediently, which was surprising even to himself. For some reason,
he did not want to show his teeth or argue.
Micah read
the Our Father once and was about to leave.
“Are you done
with your prayers?” The boy wondered.
“Yes, I am. I have something to do downstairs.”
Ruslan was curious what the weird and unsociable old
man was going to do and followed him.
The old Micah
went to each of the four groups of praying people and said one and the same phrase
to each group, “It was me who stole the purse. Forgive me a sinner.” People
silently made the sign of the cross and started whispering to one another only
after he left them. Ruslan witnessed all that from a distance, and acute pain
pierced his heart. The boy could not sleep the following night. In the morning,
he went to the church voluntarily for the first time since he came to the
convent.
Micah was
standing next to him in the queue for confession. They did not utter a single
word to one another.
The boy stood
in front of the analogion and whispered, “I stole the purse. Lord, forgive me!”
Micah came for the confession right after him. The old man sighed heavily and
articulated distinctly, “I repent of lying.” The priest was waiting for
the continuation but the old man said dismissively, “I cannot recognise any
other sins in my heart.”
The old man
would pray in the attic every day, and the boy would sit in the corner and
watch him. It seemed to Ruslan that there was a mystery of some sort. The old man
was certainly unusual! A normal believer could never be seriously convinced
that the higher you climb, the closer to God you get! Stranger yet was the fact
that he did not know any prayers, except for the Our Father.
A story by Natallia Klimova
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