By the bookshelf. Nun Euphemia (Pashchenko)

There are many stories about the great power of maternal love. But it happens that we, busy with our own affairs and problems, find out too late how ardently and tenderly our mothers loved us. And we repent too late that we have inflicted incurable wounds on our loving mother’s heart... But who knows, maybe, as the song says, “from somewhere above,” our mothers see our belated repentance and forgive their late-wisher children. After all, a mother’s heart knows how to love and forgive like no one else on earth...

Not long ago, a mother and daughter lived in a city in the center of Russia. The mother's name was Tatyana Ivanovna, and she was a general practitioner and teacher at the local medical institute. And her only daughter, Nina, was a student at the same institute. Both of them were unbaptized. But one day Nina and two classmates went into an Orthodox church. The session was approaching, which, as you know, is considered a “period of fever” and anxiety among students. Therefore, Nina’s classmates, in the hope of God’s help in the upcoming exams, decided to order a prayer service for the students. Just at this time, the rector of the temple, Father Dimitri, read a sermon, which interested Nina very much, because she had never heard anything like it. Nina’s friends left the church long ago, but she remained there until the very end of the Liturgy. This seemingly accidental visit to the temple determined Nina’s entire future fate - she was soon baptized. Of course, she did this in secret from her unbelieving mother, for fear of angering her. Father Dimitri, who baptized her, became Nina’s spiritual father.

Nina was unable to keep the secret of her baptism from her mother for long. Tatyana Ivanovna suspected something was wrong not even because her daughter suddenly stopped wearing jeans and a knitted hat with tassels, replacing them with a long skirt and headscarf. And not because she completely stopped using cosmetics. Unfortunately, Nina, like many young converts, completely ceased to be interested in studying, deciding that it distracted her from “the one thing she needs.” And while she spent days on end studying the Lives of the Saints and the Philokalia, volume after volume, textbooks and notebooks became covered with an increasingly thick layer of dust...

More than once Tatyana Ivanovna tried to persuade Nina not to skip her studies. But it was no use. The daughter was exclusively occupied with saving her own soul. The closer the end of the school year became, and with its approach the number of detentions Nina had increased to astronomical figures, the more heated the clashes between Nina and her mother became. One day, enraged, Tatyana Ivanovna, gesticulating violently, accidentally brushed away with her hand the icon that was standing on her daughter’s table. The icon fell to the floor. And then Nina, who regarded her mother’s act as blasphemy against a sacred thing, hit her for the first time in her life...

Subsequently, mother and daughter became more and more alien to each other, although they continued to coexist in the same apartment, periodically quarreling. Nina equated her life under the same roof with her mother to martyrdom, and considered Tatyana Ivanovna the main obstacle to her further spiritual growth, since it was she who aroused the passion of anger in her daughter. On occasion, Nina liked to complain to her friends and Fr. Dimitri on his mother's cruelty. At the same time, hoping to evoke their compassion, she decorated her stories with such fantastic details that Tatyana Ivanovna seemed to her listeners to be a sort of Diocletian in a skirt. True, one day Father Dimitri allowed himself to doubt the veracity of Nina’s stories. Then she immediately broke up with her spiritual father and moved to another church, where she soon began singing and reading in the choir, leaving the former psalm-reader, a lonely old Ukrainian woman, almost out of work...
Nina liked the new church even more than the old one, since its abbot drilled his spiritual children with penances in the form of dozens, or even hundreds of prostrations, which gave no one any reason to doubt the correctness of his spiritual leadership. The parishioners, and especially the parishioners, dressed in black and tied with dark scarves up to their eyebrows, with a rosary on their left wrist, looked not like laywomen, but like novices of some monastery. At the same time, many of them were sincerely proud that, with the blessing of the priest, they had forever expelled from their apartments the “idol and servant of hell,” colloquially referred to as a television, as a result of which they received undoubted confidence in their future salvation... However, the severity of the rector of this temple towards his spiritual later brought good results to children - many of them, having completed the primary school of asceticism in their parish, subsequently went to various monasteries and became exemplary monks and nuns.

Nina was nevertheless expelled from the institute for poor academic performance. She never tried to continue her studies, considering a doctor’s degree a thing unnecessary for eternal life. Tatyana Ivanovna managed to get her daughter a job as a laboratory assistant at one of the departments of the medical institute, where Nina worked, without, however, showing much zeal for her work. Like the heroines of her favorite lives of saints, Nina knew only three roads - to church, to work and, late in the evening, home. Nina never got married, because she definitely wanted to become either a priest’s wife or a nun, and all other options did not suit her.
Over the years of her stay in the Church, she read a lot of spiritual books, and learned the Gospel texts almost by heart, so that in the inevitable disputes and disagreements in parish life, she proved her own rightness, striking down her opponents “with the sword of the words of God.” If a person refused to admit that Nina was right, then she immediately included him in the category of “pagans and publicans”... Meanwhile, Tatyana Ivanovna was getting old and increasingly thinking about something.
Sometimes Nina found brochures and leaflets in her bag, which, apparently, were handed to her on the street by Jehovah's Witness sectarians. Nina scoldedly took away the dangerous books from her mother, and, calling her a “sectarian,” tore them into small pieces in front of her eyes and sent them to the trash can. Tatyana Ivanovna remained silent resignedly.

Nina’s suffering, forced to live under the same roof with her unbelieving mother, came to an end after Tatyana Ivanovna retired and began to get sick more and more often. One evening, when Nina, returning from church, was devouring the Lenten borscht her mother had cooked for her, Tatyana Ivanovna said to her daughter:
- That's it, Ninochka. I want to apply for a nursing home. I don't want to interfere with your life anymore. Do you think I should do this?
If Nina had looked into her mother’s eyes at that moment, she would have read in them all the pain of her mother’s suffering heart. But she, without raising her eyes from the plate of borscht, muttered:
- Don't know. Do what you want. I don't care.

Soon after this conversation, Tatyana Ivanovna managed to complete all the necessary documents and moved to live in a nursing home located on the outskirts of the city, taking with her only a small suitcase with the most necessary things. Nina didn’t even consider it necessary to see her mother off. After her departure, she even felt joy - after all, it turned out that the Lord Himself had saved her from the need to continue living with her unloved mother. And subsequently - and from caring for her.

After Nina was left alone, she decided that now she could arrange her own destiny the way she had long wanted. In the neighboring diocese there was a convent with strict rules and a well-established spiritual life. Nina went there more than once, and in her dreams she imagined herself as a novice of this particular monastery. True, the local abbess did not accept anyone into the monastery without the blessing of the perspicacious elder Alipius from the famous Vozdvizhensky Monastery, located in the same diocese, in the city of V. But Nina was sure that the elder would certainly bless her to enter the monastery. Or maybe even, taking into account her previous work in the temple, she will immediately be tonsured as a ryassophore? And how beautiful she will look in the clothes of a nun - in a black duckweed and hood, trimmed with fur, with long rosary in her hand - a real bride of Christ... With such rosy dreams, Nina went to the elder, buying him an expensive Greek icon as a gift in a silver robe.

To the amazement of Nina, who sought a personal conversation with the elder, he refused to accept her. But she was not going to give up, and managed to get to the elder with a group of pilgrims. When she saw the elder, Nina fell at his feet and began to ask for his blessing to enter the nunnery. But to Nina’s amazement, the perspicacious elder gave her a stern rebuke:
- What did you do with your mother? How can you say that you love God if you hate your mother? And don’t dream of a monastery - I won’t bless you!

Nina wanted to object to the elder that he simply had no idea what a monster her mother was. But, probably from excitement and frustration, she could not utter a word. However, when the first shock passed, Nina decided that Elder Alypius was either not as perspicacious as they say about him, or was simply mistaken. After all, there were cases when even future great saints were denied entry into the monastery...

...About six months have passed since Nina’s mother went to a nursing home. One day at this time, in the church where Nina was singing, an old Ukrainian psalmist died. The neighbors of the deceased brought her notes and notebooks with recordings of liturgical texts to the church, and the rector blessed Nina to review them and select what could be useful in the choir. Nina's attention was attracted by one of the notebooks, with a black oilcloth cover. It contained carols - Russian and Ukrainian, as well as various poems of spiritual content, which are usually called “psalms” by the people. However, there was one poem written in Ukrainian, which was not a “psalm”, but rather a legend. Its plot looked something like this: a certain young man promised his beloved girl to fulfill any of her wishes. “Then bring me your mother’s heart,” demanded the cruel beauty. And the young man, mad with love, fearlessly fulfilled her wish. But when he returned to her, carrying a terrible gift in a scarf - a mother's heart, he stumbled and fell. Apparently, it was the earth that shook under the feet of the matricide. And then the mother’s heart asked her son: “Are you hurt, son?”

While reading this legend, Nina suddenly remembered her mother. How is she? What with her? However, considering the memory of her mother to be a demonic excuse, Nina immediately reflected it with a quote from the Gospel: “... who is My Mother?... whoever does the will of My Heavenly Father is My brother, and sister, and Mother.” (Matthew 12.48, 50) And thoughts about the mother disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared.

But at night Nina had an unusual dream. It’s as if someone is leading her through a beautiful Garden of Eden, buried in flowers and planted with fruit trees. And Nina sees that in the middle of this garden there is a beautiful house, or rather a palace. “So this is the kind of palace the Lord has prepared for me,” Nina thought. And then her companion, as if reading her thoughts, answered her: “no, this is a palace for your mother.” “What then for me?” - asked Nina. But her companion was silent... And then Nina woke up...

The dream she had had confused her. How is it that the Lord, after all that Nina did for Him, did not prepare for her a palace in paradise corresponding to her merits before Him? And why such honor to her mother, an unbeliever and not even baptized? Of course, Nina considered her dream to be an enemy’s obsession. But still, curiosity got the better of her, and, taking with her some gifts, she asked the abbot for leave and went to the nursing home to visit her mother, whom she had not seen for six months.

Since Nina did not know the number of the room in which her mother lived, she decided to start her search from the nurse's station. There she found a young nurse putting pills for patients into plastic cups. To Nina’s considerable surprise, she noticed a small icon of the Kazan Mother of God on the medicine cabinet, and on the windowsill - a book about Blessed Xenia of St. Petersburg with a bookmark sticking out. After greeting the nurse, Nina asked her which room Tatyana Ivanovna Matveeva lived in.

Have you come to visit her? - asked the nurse. - Unfortunately, you are late. Tatyana Ivanovna died two months ago. She took out a magazine and, having found the right place in it, told Nina the exact date of her mother’s death. But, apparently, at the same time the nurse remembered something significant for her, and she continued the conversation herself:
- Who will you be for her? Daughter? You know, Nina Nikolaevna, how happy you are! You had a wonderful mother. I didn’t study with her, but I heard a lot of good things about her from her students. Everyone loved her here too. And she died hard - she fell and broke her leg. Then the bedsores started to develop, and I went to bandage her. You know, I have never seen such patients in my life. She didn’t cry, didn’t moan, and thanked me every time. I have never seen people die so meekly and courageously as your mother. And two days before her death, she asked me: “Galenka, bring my father to me, let him baptize me.” Then I called our father Ermogen, and the next day he came and baptized her. And the next day she died. If you could see what her face was like, bright and clear, as if she had not died, but had just fallen asleep... Just like a saint.

There was no end to Nina's amazement. It turns out that her mother believed before her death and died, having been cleansed by Baptism from all her previous sins. And the talkative nurse continued to tell:
- And you know, she often remembered you. And when Father Ermogen baptized her, she asked to pray for you. When she fell ill, I suggested that she call you. But she refused: no need, Galenka, why bother Ninochka. She already has enough to do. Yes, and I am guilty before her... And I also asked you not to tell about my death, so that you would not worry in vain. I obeyed, sorry...

This is what Nina learned about the last days of her mother's life. Having given away the gifts she had brought to the nurse and the old women from the neighboring rooms, she went home on foot to calm down at least a little. She wandered along deserted snowy streets, not making out the road. But she was not at all depressed by the fact that she had now lost her only relative, but by the fact that she could not come to terms with how God had given such a wonderful place in heaven not to her, who had labored all her life for Him, but to her mother, baptized just a day before her death. And the more she thought about it, the more a murmur against God rose in her soul: “Lord, why should she, and not me? How did you allow this to happen? Where is Your justice? And then the earth opened up under Nina’s feet and she fell into the abyss.

No, it was not a miracle at all. Simply, immersed in her thoughts, Nina did not notice the open sewer hatch and fell straight into a gaping hole. From surprise, she did not have time to scream, or pray, or even be afraid. No less unexpected was the fact that her feet suddenly rested on something hard. It was probably some kind of box that someone dropped into the hatch and got stuck in it. After that, someone's strong hands grabbed Nina and dragged her upstairs. She didn't remember what happened next.
When Nina came to her senses, people crowded around her, scolding some the mayor's office, others the thieves who had stolen the metal manhole cover, and wondered how Nina managed to get out without outside help. Nina mechanically looked into the hatch and saw how at its bottom, deep, deep, water was splashing and some kind of pipe was sticking out. But there is no trace of any box inside. And then she lost consciousness again...

She was taken to the hospital, examined, and, finding no injuries, was sent home, advising her to take a sedative. Once at home, Nina took the pill, having previously crossed it and washed it down with holy water, and soon fell asleep. She dreamed that she was falling into an abyss. And suddenly she hears: “Don’t be afraid, daughter,” and her mother’s strong, warm hands pick her up and carry her somewhere up. And then Nina finds herself in the very garden that she dreamed about yesterday. And he sees wonderful trees and flowers. And also the palace where, as she was told, her mother lives. And next to this palace, indeed, stands her mother, young and beautiful, as in photographs from an old album.

Are you hurt, daughter? - asks Nina’s mother.

And then Nina realized what saved her from inevitable death. It was maternal love and maternal prayer, which “raises you from the bottom of the sea.” And Nina began to sob and began to kiss her mother’s feet, watering them with her belated tears of repentance.
And then her mother, bending over her, began to affectionately stroke her already graying hair:

Don’t cry, don’t cry, daughter... May the Lord forgive you. And I forgave you everything a long time ago. Live, serve God and be happy. Just remember: “God is love...”. If you love and feel sorry for people, we will meet again and will never part again. And this house will become your home.

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko. A medical tale. At the end of the Sunday Liturgy and prayers, when the parishioners of the Holy Lazarus Church began to go home, the rector, Father Theodore, came to the choir and announced to the singers: “My dear readers, my golden singers, do not forget that on Friday we have the Patronal Feast.” The Lord himself will serve. Please come, everyone. Anton,” he turned to the leading bass, “you should definitely come.” You know that Vladyka has his favorite “Cherubimskaya” - with a bass solo... There’s no way we could do it without you. “Father,” sighed the young singer to whom the abbot was addressing. “That’s the trouble, I can’t come.” I already asked the manager to reschedule the appointment to the evening, but he did not allow it. What if, he says, the sick come in the morning, but the doctor won’t be at the appointment... And he ordered to issue coupons for the appointment just on Friday morning. So, father, forgive me. I wanted what was best, but it turned out... - Can’t you change? - the abbot immediately asked, saddened. “Who can replace me, father, if there are only two neurologists in the entire clinic - the director and me,” the singer complained. - Who will take care of the sick for me? The abbot became thoughtful. And suddenly he suddenly beamed. Then he opened the door to the altar and called: “Father Victor!” Come here! At these words, Father Victor, the recently ordained third priest of the church, came out of the altar onto the choir. Despite his youth, he was known as a jack of all trades, so he could, if necessary, cut down a bathhouse and cut funny dragons out of fresh cucumbers for his three children when they began to act up. In addition, Father Victor was a student at the Theological Institute. And students, as you know, are not only smart people, but also resourceful. Victor's father had only one drawback - he was deprived of an ear for music, so all attempts to teach him to sing or at least keep his tone were invariably unsuccessful. “That’s it, Father Victor,” the abbot said to the third priest. Here we have a problem - we need Anton to be at the Liturgy when Vladyka arrives. And he can’t get away from work. Unless someone replaces him. So, Father Victor, replace Anton at his job. This is the kind of obedience you will receive from me. If at this moment Fr. was overhead. The sky opened up and thunder struck Victor; he would have been less horrified. It’s easy for the abbot to say: “replace Anton.” But how can this be done if in medicine Fr. Did Victor know no more than singing? “I will refuse, I will certainly refuse,” Fr. decided to himself. Victor. But then he remembered that the will of the abbot cannot be contradicted, and that “obedience is more important than fasting and prayer.” Therefore, he bowed his head before Father Theodore: “Okay, Father Theodore.” I will do as you bless. The days remaining until Friday Fr. Victor spent in confusion and fear. His only consolation was that anything could still happen before Friday. For example, he would get sick, catch a cold, or sprain his leg... He even began to pray to God, so that the Lord would perform a miracle, and he would not have to turn out to be a “reluctant doctor.” But the miracle did not happen, and Father Valery lived in perfect health until the fateful Friday. It must be said that the singer Anton, that is, the neurologist Anton Sergeevich, for his part made every effort to protect Fr. Victor from possible surprises during the reception. Arriving with him at the clinic an hour before the start of the shift, he personally dressed the priest in a white robe and even tried to explain to him how, using a special hammer with a rubber head, to evoke reflexes in the patient. But most importantly, he entrusted him to the care of his nurse, Marya Ivanovna, one of the best nurses in the entire clinic. At the same time, all three agreed that Fr. Victor will only question the patients. When it comes to appointments, he will nod his head to the nurse with an important look, and she will prescribe the necessary medications and procedures. Having completed all this preparation, Anton Sergeevich went to the temple, leaving Fr. Victor, as they say, is at the will of God. For about twenty minutes after he left, there was a lull at the reception. The sick either did not go, or were delayed somewhere. While Marya Ivanovna was silently writing something, Father Victor, languishing in anticipation, managed to disassemble and reassemble the neurological hammer, finding a needle inside its head, and a hard brush inside the handle. He was about to ask the nurse about the purpose of these items, but then there was a knock on the office door, and the first patient, a man about 50, appeared on the threshold. “Lord, help me!” - Father Victor desperately pleaded. “Hello, doctor,” said the newcomer. - Hello, what's your name? Ivan Ivanovich... Please sit down. Tell me exactly where your pain is concentrated? - Doctor, my lower back is tormenting me. I take and take pills, but to no avail. Please advise, what if scientists came up with something new for radiculitis... And then the unexpected happened. Probably, out of excitement, Father Victor forgot the instructions given to him by Anton Sergeevich, and, instead of nodding importantly to the nurse, who was already holding paper and pen ready, he spoke to the patient: “New, you say?” Are you fasting? No? In vain. I recently read in one magazine that if fasting is not observed, a strong deposition of salts in the bones begins. This is where all the problems come from. But soon there will be a Christmas post. Try fasting. It will immediately become much easier... Do you bow? No, not gymnastics, but bowing and praying. Here, for example, like this (at the same time, Father Victor, carried away, stood up and showed the patient how to make a bow from the waist, bending down and reaching the floor with his hand). Try to do at least ten bows every day. And be sure to read your prayer. What prayer exactly? I love it. For example, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” This prayer is called the Jesus Prayer. Or a prayer to the Mother of God... “Doctor, can you write down these prayers,” asked the visibly animated patient. “Sister,” he turned to Marya Ivanovna, “please write down the words for me... Having received a piece of paper with the texts of prayers, as well as advice from Fr. Victor bought a prayer book from the church, the smiling patient left the office. When parting, Fr. Victor blessed him with a priestly blessing: “Well, with God, get treatment for your mental and physical health.” So, contrary to the saying that “the first pancake is lumpy,” the first experience of Fr. Victor was successful in the medical field. But the already emboldened Fr. Victor had fully experienced the joy of his first success when an elderly woman with a pale, exhausted face entered the office: “Doctor, please write me some pills for fear... Fear has tormented me, I have no strength.” -What are you afraid of? - asked Fr. Victor - Yes, you see, doctor, my neighbor is so harmful, so evil. She and I were arguing and arguing, and it almost ended up in court. And then it began to seem to me that there was a black cat running around my apartment. Apparently my neighbor did this to me. I already went to my grandmother, and she also told me that this was done on me, but what’s the point? She took the money, but the cat kept running and running. Then I went to the doctors, they prescribed pills and prescribed them, but to no avail. Apparently the weak pills don’t help... Maybe you could prescribe something stronger? - Pills won’t help here - we need something else. Have you tried praying before going to bed? No? Here’s how you do it - pray before going to bed, and then cross yourself and the corners of the apartment. Don't know how to pray? Yes, at least with the prayer that is written on the pectoral cross: “Lord, save and preserve.” Don't you have a cross? How can it be that you were baptized, but you don’t have a cross? You must wear a cross if you are baptized. After all, demons are afraid of the Cross more than anything else in the world... Is your apartment consecrated? Also no? Invite the priest and let him bless you. Are there any icons in the house? What are you saying, is it really possible for a house to exist without a shrine? Be sure to buy them, any church now sells icons. Don't go to grandma's anymore. This is a sin, we must repent of it. And be sure to make peace with your neighbor - it’s also a sin when people are at enmity. How long have you been to confession? Never? So how can all evil spirits not appear after this? Be sure to confess, and the sooner the better. And before that, fast for three days, remember the sins you have committed so that you can confess them to the priest. No, what does it mean: “I’m ashamed to tell”? A doctor is not ashamed to talk about his illness. And the priest is also a doctor, only a spiritual one. Well, God save you... - Oh, doctor, your words immediately made me feel better, - the woman perked up, - you are so comforting. Just like a priest... Yes, I am a father,” Fr. wanted to admit. Victor, but the woman had already left the office. Further admission of patients continued in the same spirit. Father Victor listened to people, consoled them, prescribed treatment and gave his blessing. And what’s surprising is that on that day nurse Marya Ivanovna did not have to write out a single prescription for medicine. The treatment was prescribed by Fr. Victor. You ask - how did he manage to do this if he did not know medicine? But don’t most of the physical illnesses with which people go to see a doctor have spiritual causes, in which spiritual doctors - priests - are the most knowledgeable? And for spiritual diseases - and treatment accordingly. To whom - fasting, to whom - intense prayer, to whom - distribution of alms, to whom - bows... And for all of us together - repentance for our sins. The treatment that o. Victor prescribed it to his patients, it turned out to be so effective that over the weekend the news spread throughout the area that a certain famous metropolitan professor of neurology was seeing at the clinic, who helped even the hopelessly ill. So on Monday, a whole crowd of sufferers gathered at the door of the neurologist’s office. Alas, to their considerable disappointment, Anton Sergeevich, whom they knew well, was sitting at the table, in a white robe, with a hammer in his hands. “Doctor,” the patients decided to ask him, “please tell me, where can I find that professor with a beard who was holding an appointment here on Friday?” Let him heal us too. Please tell me where he receives it? And then Anton Sergeevich told them the address of the medical institution where the doctor they were looking for practiced. You will say - but Fr. Victor was not a doctor, but a priest. But a priest is also a doctor, only a spiritual one. And the place where he served, the Orthodox Church, is often called a “medical hospital.” That is, a hospital, or, if you like, a clinic. A clinic where human souls are treated and healed.

Forgive me, Ksenia! The Tale of Saint Blessed Xenia of Petersburg

The first story is based on the nun Euphemia (Pashchenko), the title of which is: “Forgive me, Ksenia!” - put in the title of this book, lies the life of the holy blessed Xenia of Petersburg. The main character had the opportunity to live almost his entire life side by side with the saint, but he realized that she was a saint only when she was gone.
Nun Euphemia (Pashchenko) is a famous Orthodox writer, local historian, critic and doctor. The author of numerous stories dedicated to the lives of famous saints and ascetics, including the blessed prince Alexander Nevsky, the Solovetsky wonderworkers, the Monk Ambrose of Optina and many others.
The stories of the nun Euphemia often contain detective intrigue. The author says: “For me, detective stories are an occasion to talk not so much about Orthodoxy as a religion, but about Orthodox people. After all, it is by people that the faith they profess is often judged. Of course, this is an erroneous judgment. Coming to church, a person should not believe that he will meet only angels there... They are just people...” The writer talks about them on the pages of this book.

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Adventures of a Doctor, or Christians are not born. Nun Euphemia Pashchenko

Is it easy to found a monastery these days? At least for the heroine of the story “The Poisoned Spring,” this almost cost her the loss of her sanity. Because both the island of Likhostrov, where she settled, and her house itself are under a curse. And the last local priest, Father Matthew, said it before the execution...
In this book you will find three more fascinating stories, as well as stories - several cases from the medical practice of the author, who does not forget to remind you that there are angelic forces and dark armies, that there is a sinful death and the world of truth in Christ.
The works of Elena Pashchenko today enjoy great success both in Russia and abroad among readers following the path of spiritual search.

Notes from the Underworld. About passions and temptations. Nun Euphemia Pashchenko

How and with what tricks do the enemies of the human race act against us? In this book about passions and temptations, the narration is told from the perspective of a demon, skilled in the hellish art of capturing and destroying human souls; the emphasis in the book is placed precisely on what trials the forces of evil offer you and me. This book tells about the darkness that reigns in our souls until the light of Christ illuminates and enlightens them, about God destroying the machinations and intricacies of the forces of darkness and the spirits of evil in high places. The book has been approved for distribution by the Publishing Council of the Russian Orthodox Church.
Now the topic of passions and temptations in the life of every person is more relevant than ever. An abundance of temptations, a negative information environment, aggressive imposition of dubious and false values ​​- we are forced to want what we do not need, to do what we do not want. Nun Euphemia wrote an amazing book about passions and temptations for us and our contemporaries, who sometimes lack spiritual guidance or find it difficult to read traditional church literature due to insufficient preparation.

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Secrets of monasteries. Life in ancient women's monasteries. Nun Euphemia

Read the passage online! (Opens in a new browser tab)

Life behind the monastery walls has always been shrouded in an aura of mystical mystery. The new book by nun Euphemia (Pashchenko) provides an excellent opportunity to look inside a Russian monastery and get acquainted with the daily life of women’s monasteries using archival data published in print for the first time. It tells about who went to monasteries and why, how the sisters lived, what temptations awaited them inside the monastery walls. The reader will see a gallery of abbesses from northern convents, sisters of mercy, and monastic pupils.

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Rejected happiness. Nun Euphemia Pashchenko

“Rejected Happiness” is a long-awaited new book by the famous Orthodox writer nun Euphemia.
These are stories about those who live next to us. And about people of bygone times. About ascetics and criminals, about traitors and penitents, about saints and about those who are mired in sins. However, let’s not rush to conclusions about “who is who,” because at any moment everything can change: a recent apostate will repent, and a person confident in his own righteousness will find himself faced with a terrible truth - he is as far from God as the depths of hell are from heavenly heights...
Let's try to think together about the questions: do we have the right to condemn someone? What awaits us beyond the threshold of life? What does the star of Christ's Love, shining ahead, prophesy about?

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The Patriarch of Christians will die a martyr. Lives of saints for children

One day, schoolchildren argued - who is the most important Greek hero? Some said that this was Hercules, because he was the strongest, others argued that it was Odysseus, since he was the most resourceful, and still others chose Jason, who was dexterous and smart. But after reading this book, you will find out that none of them was right, and the real hero of Hellas turned out to be... you will soon find out who!
For primary and secondary school age.

“I knew that God exists as a little girl,” says Mother Euphemia, “he was like a parent to me - someone kind and at the same time strict, watching me, what actions I do. And every time after some childish prank I felt guilty before HIM.” We are talking in her apartment, in an old house in the city center. The setting of the nun’s “cell” in the world does not coincide with the image that I have formed thanks to books and television. A spacious room, minimalistic but quite cozy furnishings - a bed, a bookcase, a bedside table with a tape recorder, a mountain of CDs with classics and sacred music. And icons. They take up an entire wall. This and one more thing - a special table for the prayer book, remind us of who lives here.
Mother Euphemia approached the conversation with me very strictly and scrupulously. As she herself admitted, she spent a long time sketching something on paper and preparing. “I can’t get out of the habit, my philological education makes itself felt,” she justified herself.
“My childhood can be divided into two parts - before my father’s arrest and after,” mother continues the story. “Before, it was a quiet Moscow courtyard, many friends, carefree happiness, and after...” Many families learned then what repression was and what Soviet communal well-being could lead to. And to little Sveta (that was Mother Euphemia’s name in her worldly life), the world then ceased to seem cloudless. Perhaps that is why she entered her youth as a rather willful and independent person. While still a student, she met her future husband, and soon a son was born.
But the family could not live together. Svetlana suffered the same fate as many women - her relationship with her mother-in-law did not work out. “I didn’t know how, I didn’t know how to deal with such a situation, and it seemed to me that the best thing was to let my husband go to his mother, since she wouldn’t let us live together. Now I understand that it was a tragic mistake,” reflects Mother Euphemia. “It was impossible to push away him, no matter what. Everyone has their own cross. This one was mine, and I had to carry it. You can’t get off the cross, they just take it off. But I got off...”
This is how the young family lived - with rare meetings. And then, when my son was already 13, one of the protracted separations was interrupted by the news that the husband had died. Mother Euphemia considers that moment a turning point in her life: “Standing on the edge of the grave, I realized a lot, but I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Often observing the mistakes made by young women who turn to me for advice, I just want to shout to them: you Do you also need to stand at a freshly dug grave?
Friends tried to help Svetlana get out of a severe mental crisis. Unexpectedly, the best help for her was the Gospel, given “just in case” by an unbelieving friend. “This is an amazing book,” says Mother Euphemia, “I’m telling you this as a philologist. Philologists often have to analyze literary works, and using the example of literary classics, I can describe to you in detail how one theme in a work flows into another, where these boundaries lie. But, believe me, there are no boundaries in the Gospel! Reading it is like breathing." The friend who gave the book was amazed at the changes taking place in Svetlana. “Then she looked at me skeptically, but now she has also been baptized and works as a secretary in one of the Moscow monasteries.” In the same place that I came to after my devout friend. But Svetlana’s son was the first to step on the thorny path of churching.

If you are...

Father Alexander - this is what Mother Euphemia now calls her son, the rector of one of the Saratov churches. We changed the name; the Bishop of Saratov and Volsky did not give his blessing to divulge all the secrets of this unusual family.
A person’s path to realizing faith as an integral part of existence is always complex and consists of many sensations and events. Mother Euphemia remembered one of these. “My son grew up as a very sick boy,” says the nun. “The doctor considered this a consequence of his subtle mental organization and advised me an unexpected cure - to get a dog. I had to agree - but where could I go? Father Alexander became so attached to the dog! This shepherd became a real life for us friend and full member of the family." But, unfortunately, dogs are no less susceptible to tragic accidents than people. One day, on the way to a walk, the family pet stuck his nose into rat poison that someone had left on the landing. And he immediately fell ill. The veterinarians' conclusion was short and hopeless - arsenic. The poison causes massive bleeding. “Your dog’s insides have already turned into a bloody mess,” the doctors said. “At that moment,” recalls Mother Euphemia, “Father Alexander for the first time turned to God with a direct, sincere request: “If you exist, save my dog!” This is what people do when life drives them to the very edge, and even children, without losing the feeling of direct communication with God. “Objectively, there was no hope for the dog’s recovery, but there was an unexpected faith that came,” says mother. - And a miracle happened - the dog, despite everything, began to recover. After this, Father Alexander began to visit church often, and when he studied at the institute, he was already a regular parishioner of a nearby church."
Svetlana, who had revised many of her views, perceived her son’s churching as a natural course of things: “We recalled how once, when he was little and asked me: “Why do people believe in God?”, I answered with the maximalism characteristic of me then: “So “Only weak people act.” After everything that happened, this only made us smile. This “weakness” allowed us to survive and gave us the opportunity to help many people in need of support.”
And yet, her son’s decision to become a monk, like for any mother who found herself in her place, became another test for Svetlana. “Before my tonsure, my son told me: don’t hold me, let me go, otherwise it will be difficult for both you and me. And then, when I came to him, when I felt this atmosphere, the spirit of the monastery and its brethren, I suddenly remembered how Father Alexander told me as a child: “Mom, I want there to be a house where everyone we love would live.” And I understood - he found the house that I, my father, and my grandmother could not give him because of our petty quarrels and insults."

Following my son

Mother Euphemia’s whole life proves that she is from the breed of those selfless Russian mothers who selflessly give themselves to their children. It was precisely this all-consuming love for her son that prevented her from getting along with her husband’s mother’s daughter-in-law. Svetlana could have become like this, but life turned out differently. “Are you asking me how I decided to become a nun?” Mother Euphemia wonders. “How can you decide this? My whole life has been the road that led me to tonsure. I just realized that there could be no other way out for me.” By that time, the life of the future mother was already closely connected with the monastery where her son entered: she helped the brethren - cooked, canned, sewed. To always be where her son is - she could not ask for another fate. And when the decision to take monastic vows was ripe, she went to the Trinity-Sergius Lavra, to the fraternal confessor, Archimandrite Kirill (Pavlov) for a blessing. “We went with Father Alexander, stood in a huge line to see one of the priests. While I was standing there, I kept thinking, how can I ask him a question? But Father Alexander came up first, and when it was my turn, the priest just smiled - he was tonsured , to take monastic vows! That’s how everything was decided. My life in the world, and not in the monastery, was blessed then..."
But monastic life prepared its own trials for Mother Euphemia. “In the monastery where my son lived, I offered my help in the publishing business, because I am a philologist, but the abbot told me: go help in the refectory,” says Mother Euphemia, smiling at her pride at that time. “Later they entrusted me with editing, writing, and First I worked in the refectory." The nun’s inner consciousness also underwent a certain evolution. It is unlikely that psychologists have ever studied what happens in the soul of a person who decides to leave the world and put on a monastic robe. For Mother Euphemia, who had found inner peace, the most difficult thing was to find her place in life, to understand the purpose of her unusual status - a nun in the world. After all, tonsure in the Russian consciousness is inextricably linked with the image of an ascetic living within the walls of a monastery, far from people, temptations and vanity. “And God gave me a sign showing what my purpose was,” she is sure. “One day I went to the Intercession Convent - my soul called. The relics of St. Matrona, very beloved and revered by Muscovites, rest there. When I was there, people began to approach me people, visitors to the monastery, ask something. And suddenly everything became crystal clear. I understood what the nun’s service in the world consists of. Later, my obedience became helping people - by deed, conversation, advice." Perhaps the only person whose heart Mother Euphemia has not yet been able to find an approach to is her mother-in-law. “Everyone has their own path to faith,” she answers herself to the question “Why?” Now this cross no longer seems so unbearable to her.

Mother Euphemia always tried to be where her son was. And when Father Alexander was appointed rector of the temple in Saratov, she went with him, not regretting leaving Moscow, where she was born and lived all her life.
And despite the fact that our provincial city at first seemed uncomfortable to a native Muscovite - “very dirty” - Mother Euphemia does not complain about her life: “Only I broke my leg this winter on the ice - but this, apparently, is for my sins.” Having started talking to me, my mother suddenly realized: “The brothers will come to dinner now!” - and rushed to the kitchen. And then we suddenly remembered that we had completely forgotten to talk about the main topic - the role of women in Orthodoxy. “Write this,” mother suggested, stirring the cabbage soup, “the most important thing for a woman is her family, many people forget about this now. Or do you want me to sketch something out for you later?” But I didn’t force the woman to sit over the paper and write something. Is this necessary?

12/02/2017 - 20:16

Woe to the one who believes that he has become a victim of evil fate and evil people. He will go to great lengths, destroy with his own hands what could still be fixed! So Father Peter, depressed and crushed by the adversity that befell him, became more and more embittered, more and more hated the dissolute girl who ruined his mother, his Victor, himself. Could his unfortunate boy know that he loved not a pure girl, but a shameless harlot? And now he is dead, and this creature is alive... Such thoughts tormented the unfortunate father Peter, giving neither sleep nor rest to his tormented soul.

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The appearance of Pan

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 29/12/2016 - 07:56

In the village God does not live in corners,
As scoffers think, but everywhere...
(I. Brodsky)

This happened on the very day when her colleague, neurologist Pyotr Ivanovich N., came to visit Nina Sergeevna. They once worked together. Moreover, it was Nina Sergeevna who initiated Pyotr Ivanovich, then still just a yellow-haired intern 1, into some of the wisdom of practical medicine, which is learned not from books - from long and bitter medical experience, so it was not without reason that she considered him her student. But then Pyotr Ivanovich, bored, like the young barge hauler Larka from the famous painting by Repin, with pulling the burden of an ordinary doctor, went into commerce and in three years succeeded in this field much more than in seven years of grueling day labor in one of the city clinics. Now he was the owner of the private clinic “Doctor Lechibol” 2, in which he himself conducted appointments as a neurologist, and lived happily, blessing that day and hour when he did not listen to Nina Sergeevna, who persuaded him to stay working in the clinic. Who would he be then? But who has he become now!

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Who knew?

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 10/17/2016 - 11:02

On a spring morning in 2010, three shaven-headed, broad-shouldered men climbed to the fourth floor of a gray brick Khrushchev building on the former Pavlin Vinogradov Avenue, recently renamed in the old manner as Trinity Avenue, and stopped in front of the door of a corner apartment, upholstered in shabby brown leatherette. One of them, a little older, dressed with the discreet simplicity of a wealthy man, took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and was the first to step over the threshold. His companions followed him. So Pyotr Shangin, one of the most famous and largest businessmen of the God-saved city of Mikhailovsk, entered into his new possession - the apartment of his late mother.

His companions were not so eminent people - so, small fry. However, they themselves had a completely different opinion about themselves. Fighters for Russia only for Russians, ardent haters of all infidels and foreigners, especially those whom they called nothing less than Jews, spiritual children of Archpriest Eugene himself, rector of the Holy Lazarus Church, confessor and ideological inspirer of the regional branch of the nationalist organization "Russian People" Union". Moreover, they bear the titles of falcons, which were given to the activists of this organization. Unlike Pyotr Shangin, his companions were dressed in the Union uniform - black shirts reminiscent of tunics, decorated with a sleeve emblem - a white swastika made of crossed swords. Judging by the color of this uniform, the members of the “Union” would be more appropriately called not falcons, but ravens. But, as they say, a bird is judged not by its name, but by its flight.

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Bitter fruit of delight (in full)

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 08/10/2016 - 21:01

Natalya Nikandrovna lived all her life in the city of Mikhailovsk. She worked in the house management, and was not some small fry there, but the boss. But as her age and illness began to overcome her, she retired and began going to church with the same regularity as before when she went to work. Fortunately, it was a stone's throw from her house to the Transfiguration Cathedral, almost like a grocery store, to which pensioners from all over the area went not so much to shop, but to chat among themselves about this and that. What else should she do in retirement if not go to church? The children have long been adults, and the grandchildren, just behold, will outgrow them - now there is no one to look after and educate, and when you start doing this out of old habit - they grumble and sulk, they say, we ourselves have a mustache.

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Good deal

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 11/07/2016 - 19:24

Nun Mononia, a gaunt old woman of about fifty, was sitting on her wretched bed, covered with rough matting. On her lap rested a massive cypress casket. Mother Mononia kept this casket at the head of her bed. How heavy it is! And how could it be otherwise! For how many years she filled this casket, like a hardworking bee filling a honeycomb with nectar. That is why it is so gratifying for her to look at what is inside.

With trembling hands, the old woman lifted the lid. In the casket, coin after coin, golden chervonets gleamed dimly. Mother Mononia admired them like a farmer admires the harvest. What's sinful about that? After all, she did not collect this wealth for herself...

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Hours of her life

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 12/06/2016 - 20:31

The clock of life has stopped
(V.I. Figner).

The old woman couldn't sleep. But it wasn’t the TV on at full volume that kept her from falling asleep. She had long been accustomed to the songs, screams, laughter and gunshots rushing from the screen, and fell asleep to them, like a child to a mother’s lullaby. No, it wasn't the TV. And it’s not even that her joints ached again - she had also long been accustomed to these pains, as to the annoying but inevitable companions of old age. No, that’s not why she couldn’t sleep... However, does it matter why lonely old people can’t sleep at night?

Groaning and groaning, the old woman (her name was Zinaida Ivanovna) rose heavily from the creaky sofa, covered with a worn and greasy Persian carpet, and stuck her stick with a worn-out rubber band at the end and a hooked handle under the sofa. The stick hit something hard...

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Soul Catchers 2

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 09/06/2016 - 16:09

He was ready for labor feats, like those performed by the heroes of his favorite books to the sounds of perky Komsomol songs. “Eh, let’s strike harder, pull together more harmoniously”... However, in reality, everything turned out to be extremely simple and prosaic. Half asleep, yawning, not yet recovered from yesterday's libation, they were lined up at the porch, and some man of inconspicuous appearance, short, like Napoleon, began to give orders, reinforcing his words with energetic waves of his hand. Fortunately, from the height of the hill the notorious front of work was clearly visible:

- So, so! Five - you, you, the two of you, and you (this applied to Sergei) - go over there! Ten more people are with me! The rest go there! Get the tools over there in the warehouse!

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Soul Catchers

Nun Euphemia Pashchenko, 02/06/2016 - 10:12

On a rainy September day, along a bumpy road, to the right and left of which stretched dismal wastelands, bordered on the horizon by a mournful ribbon of coniferous forests, slowly, like a winged insect nailed to the ground by bad weather, a bus, gray from roadside dirt and dust, with dents on its sides, moved . Suddenly he stopped. The driver swore. For some time he sat in the cockpit, trying to start the stalled engine. However, all his efforts were in vain - the engine chirped intermittently and fell silent again. Then the driver jumped out of the cab...

- Damn it! - an elderly man with a flabby face and dark stubble sprouting on his chin muttered through his teeth. “This is the second time we’ve stopped.” What the hell is this?

At these words, a dark-haired, thin young man sitting next to him in round glasses and a Bolognese jacket with a hood seemed to wake up from the thoughts in which he had been immersed all the way, jumped up from his seat and got off the bus. For some time he looked doomedly as the driver, cursing furiously, rummaged through the engine. And then, despite the drizzling cold rain, he quickly walked along the road.