A Story of Agapit Pechersky, Anastasia Novykh [best free e reader .txt] 📗

halves. He dipped one broken end into the water and did the same with the other half. After that he joined them together into a single cane. To our amazement the reed became absolutely solid. Finally Sensei took a handful of water and moistened the entire cane. Satisfied with the result, he offered it to us to test it for durability.
Oddly enough, for all the lightness of the cane it turned out to be as solid as steel. In the beginning the guys tried carefully to break it in two. But there was no way they could even bend it. That only agitated them even more. Everyone was already doing his best to break the reed. But all efforts were fruitless. What haven’t they tried to do with the cane! They made attempts to fold-break it with hands. They jumped on it. They hit it against a tree trunk lying nearby. By the way, the sound was similar to that of a super-durable plastic or some special metal. At last Stas and Volodya took the reed at ends as a horizontal bar and Eugene, of Herculean build, hung on it and started twitching with might and main, trying to break it with all his weight. But that was all in vain too. After wasting quite a bit of time with the cane, almost everyone lost hope to break it, calmed down and sat back wondering at yet another astonishing fact that fell upon their unfortunate logic. Only Eugene as a doubting Thomas was stubbornly persisting in his experiments. He sat near the fire exercising the reed.
“Damn it!” exclaimed Eugene in warm blood, glaring at the unyielding cane.
But as soon as he said it the reed broke up into two halves, no efforts being made. Everybody sat still. Eugene was taken aback himself, staring now at the stem, now at Sensei. But Sensei only smiled. Then Eugene grew bolder, took one of the halves and broke it in two.
“Oops!” he said guiltily bending down his neck.
“Well, there you go,” said Sensei not without irony. “A valid example of a fly capable of spoiling the ointment. That’s why Agapit taught purity of thoughts. For one bad thought can spoil everything.”
After those words, said with unconcealed smile, Sensei continued relating the story about the Russian Bodhisattva.
“In general Agapit worked a lot of wonders. And by the way, he had an excellent sense of humor. He used to chaff those who obviously had vices dominating in them. Once a noble Kievan merchant exhausted with ailment was brought to Agapit. So, the merchant started promising Agapit the best of his valuables, if only the healer delivered him of his illness. And he was shaking two money-bags with golden coins all around at that, as if implying that there was nothing he wouldn’t part with. Golden coins were items of great luxury at that time. They had Prince Vladimir Svyatoslavovich image on the one side and ancestral sign of Rurik Dynasty, shaped like a trident, with a lettering saying ‘Vladimir, and this is his gold’ on the other side. Those golden coins were a feather in his cap, an indication of his close links with those who stood at ‘control levers’ of the Old Russian State. Not everyone could boast such valuables. But everything loses its meaning, when a disease overcomes. The merchant was ready to part with this money to return his past health.
“Agapit healed the merchant. The latter had promised in public to repay Agapit’s kindness, but the greed seized him. So, the merchant decided to swindle the Saint. Nobody saw what was there in the bags, so the merchant put cheap silver coins into the bags instead of the promised money and added only one golden coin for his conscience’ sake. He was glad he could both recover and save so many valuables owing to his guile. He came to Agapit again with his retinue. Agapit only smiled glancing at his proudly held out bags with money and said: ‘I have not taken pay from anyone, and I won’t take any from you. But you shall keep your word. Come out and give away all this gold to beggars’. The merchant rejoiced even more and went off, his retinue attending him, to carry out the order of the Saint. But when he opened one of the bags to take the money out, all coins turned out to be golden except for one.
“So, the merchant became upset and thought he must have confused the money-bags. But he kept the promise given in front of his retinue. When he came home, however, he was terror-stricken, because all his gold and jewelery had turned into cheap silver coins. And among this pile of odd money he was able to find only one golden coin.”
“Huh, it appears that such swindlers existed even in those days,” Volodya uttered in a bass.
“There are enough of them at any time,” Sensei said with a sad smile. “Greed is the favorite vice of the human beasts. Not only among the laity, but, unfortunately, also among monks. Even during Agapit’ time many of the monastic community, where he lived, had more love for gold than for God, and they exploited their monastic rank to swindle money out of simpletons...
“During the lifetime of Agapit many were afraid of him, though Agapit never condemned anyone. After his death the hidden gold-cravers respired, for He who hadn’t let their Conscience have a minute’s peace was no more beside them. Afterwards, writing the life of the monastery, they concealed many of the true deeds of Agapit. In an effort to raise their self-importance, they ascribed his wonders to themselves. Likewise they concealed the Teaching that Agapit had related, speaking with true words of Jesus – for it contradicted their desires for money and power. As for the public renown of the monastery, which had been acquired due to Agapit and his disciples, those people used it for their own enrichment, inventing even more new styles of earning money and achieving their political goals.
“But there was, by and large, no more sanctity in those oddities who misappropriated other people’s achievements, than in a stingy huckster in a market.” Sensei sighed and added: “People remain people, whatsoever clothes they put on... Among those, whom the human mind attributed sanctity to, Agapit was the One verily Saint, for the Holy Spirit Himself abode in him.”
A short silence fell.
“When did Agapit die?” enquired Tatyana.
“In October of 1095.”
“And what about Antony?” asked Victor.
“In 1073. By the way, before Antony died, a rather curious conversation between moribund Antony and Agapit had taken place. It was witnessed by a young novice, who was taking care of Antony. It was the novice, who left the record about that event in his memoirs, after he had gone to the Athos. So, when Agapit came in, Antony was lying half in a delirium and was whispering one and the same prayer over and over. Only some of its words reached the novice’s ears. Agapit looked at Antony, smiled and added to his words: ‘...and I pray unto You for salvation of my soul. Let Your holy will...’. At those words Antony started and opened his eyes. His gaze met with that of Agapit’, and his face lit up. He began to repeat hoarsely: ‘Gabriel! Gabriel!’ and stretched his arms to Agapit. Tears streamed down his senile cheeks.
“Agapit came up to him and took his hands. Meanwhile Antony, being in raptures, uttered: ‘My Lord, Agapit, it is You! How could I have failed to recognize You? How blind I was in the radiance of Your beams!’ He started to mutter hurriedly as if afraid that there wasn’t enough time for him to say everything he felt in his soul. He spoke of his youth, and the elder, who had given him the prayer, and that he had been waiting for Him for all his life, while He turned out to be near. And now, before they had time to meet, they were to part. Agapit answered him: ‘Thou hast been by my side all thy life here. Canst thou really think I shall leave thou there? An thou hast been in unceasing Love for God, who will now bereave thee of the paradisiacal fruit created by thine own faith and heart? Thy faith hast ever thinned not during earthly moments, thy mind hast ever yielded not to the temptations of decay – with goodness being what thy conscience craved for. Heretofore thou hast asked Him not for anything save salvation of thy soul, uttering words of the prayer from thy soul. Thou hast opened thy soul wide towards God, and now God openeth His Gates afore thee. Thus delight in God’s grace. Verily I say unto thee, within this life thou hast achieved the eternal treasure – the Kingdom of God, where I shall guide thee to’.
“Agapit and Antony closed their eyes. While Agapit whispered a prayer soundlessly, Antony breathed his last with a blissful smile on his face. And his soul went to the Paradise Gardens, for Archangel Gabriel himself prayed for him at that moment.
Sensei became thoughtful and then said, shrugging his shoulders: “Though I don’t get it why they divided the whole into parts... Ah, no matter,” Sensei slightly waved his hand, “They are to live with that...”
After that, as if coming to his senses, Sensei continued the story: “Now then, when Antony died, his body was left in the cell at Agapit’ insistence. And while Agapit was alive, Antony’s body was lying as if alive, even an unusual fragrance emanated from it.
“Yet a more remarkable story happened after Agapit’ death. As I’ve said, there were a lot of people of that time who envied Agapit for his popularity among people. And when Agapit foretold the day of his death...”
“Foretold the day of his death?“ Ruslan repeated in amazement. “Is that really possible?”
“Of course it is, all the more so for Agapit... Agapit was a Bodhisattva. Death wasn’t a problem for him, unlike it is for an ordinary man, somersaulting in his reincarnations. As bodhi Agapit could abandon his body anytime. However, according to the rules of staying among people, a Bodhisattva must live his life in a human body to the full, irrespective of its length, short or long. And it surely was not that difficult for him to calculate the time when the Prana of the body was to expire...”
“A-ah..." drawled Ruslan.
“So, when Agapit foretold the date of his death, there were not only his disciples, harking to his last spiritual precepts, who started preparing for that day, but also his foes. They decided to take the Saint’s body after his death out of the monastery and bury it in an outlandish place so that nobody could ever find it. Nevertheless, they weren’t able to fulfill their plan right away, because the renown of Agapit did not wither with his death, as they’d expected. On the contrary it grew manifold. A mass pilgrimage to his body began. Four months had passed, but Agapit’ body was lying imperishable, as if he had died only a day before. The flow of people didn’t cease. So the foes, consumed with their own envy and enormous hatred for the Saint, decided to steal the body of Agapit.
“They prepared meticulously for that event and thought out a plan with devoted participants, two of them being monks. On the decisive day, the 24th of February new style, their people were burning fires all day long in spite of sharp frost and hollowed out a grave in a chosen nook not far from a deep ditch. On the night of February 25th, they finally managed to carry out what they had planned. But when the doers of that truly barbarous command completed their ‘black deed’ and returned to