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Σάββατο 8 Δεκεμβρίου 2012
A TRUE STORY...
Translated
from "Raiskie Tsveti Russi Zmli," initially printed by the Russian
Orthodox Youth Committee, Baldivin Place, N. Y, 1984.
Mine eyes
shall be upon the faithful of the land, that they may dwell with me: he that
walketh in a perfect way, he shall serve me. [Pss ioo:6]
During his
stay in Moscow in the spring of 1707, Tsar Peter Alexeevich commissioned Prince
Feodor Yurevich Romodanovsky to organize the penitentiary system. And so,
Romodanovsky set out on an inspection of the Moscow prisons. In the convict
prison, accompanied by an inspector and a guard, he walked along all the
corridors, looking into each cell and inquiring about the prisoners.
Suddenly, one
of the convicts addressed him: "Esteemed Prince! We know that you are a
pious and God-fearing man, that you venerate the memory of the saints,
especially that of our hierarch St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. For his sake,
the merciful one, show thy generous mercy and let me go home for a visit, just
for two days."
"What?!"
Exclaimed the astonished Romodanovsky. "Are you crazy to think of asking
such a thing?"
"I am
fully aware and of sound mind," replied the convict. "I shall add
that in my part of the country the feast of St. Nicholas is particularly
honored. There in the village church is an altar dedicated to him. And besides, I long to see my young wife and my
little children. I want to embrace and to kiss them. Let me go..."
"What kind of a man is this?" Asked the prince. "He murdered one of the tsar's
soldiers," answered the guard. "What kind of soldier?"
"One of
the Preobrazhensk regiment. True,"
added the guard, "it was committed in a fit of anger."
The prisoner
continued: "Merciful prince! It's true, I'm a great criminal. I repent of
my deed before God and man. Nevertheless, I'd like to go home for a visit. I'm
asking for two days only, and be assured that on the third day I shall return
here on my own."
The convict's
frankness impressed the prince, and he asked him, "Who will act as surety
for you?"
"St.
Nicholas the Wonderworker," answered the prisoner. "He will secure me
against any temptation."
Here
Romodanovsky looked the prisoner straight in the eyes, and something warmly
compassionate moved in his soul.
"Unfetter
him and release him for two days," he ordered, pointing to the prisoner.
"Your
honor," said the inspector, "I dare say he will deceive you. He has
only to make it out of the prison and there'll be no trace of him. Nothing in
the world is sacred for these criminals. They are masters of fine speech."
Romodanovsky
pondered these words...
"It's
true," he thought. "Once he leaves the prison where would one look
for him? Maybe he isn't even interested in going home but just wants to be
released and do what he pleases... Obviously, I wasn't thinking when I gave the
order. But once said, there's no turning back; a Romodanovsky doesn't take back
his words."
The prince
looked once again into the open face of the convict and repeated: "Release
him from prison for two days! I have faith that he will return at the appointed
time. His holy surety will guarantee it."
The prisoner
threw himself at the feet of the kind prince, while the inspector, sullen and
pessimistic, ordered the guard to unfetter him.
Twenty versts
from Moscow (a verst is Russian unit of length of approximately one kilometer,
Ed), in the village of Nikolsk, the feast for St. Nicholas the Wonderworker was
in full swing. At the end of the Liturgy the people spilled out from the church
onto the market square. There a colorful picture of a fair presented itself.
The temporarily released prisoner mingled happily in the midst of the crowd. In
his arms he held a beautiful child who clung tightly with his pudgy arms around
the neck of his father. Beside them walked a slender young woman, holding by
the hand a lively boy.
"My
poor, unfortunate husband," said the woman, "don't leave us orphaned.
See how agreeable life is in freedom. But there—prison, fetters. True, you killed one of the tsar's
soldiers. But you did so without evil motive, unintentionally, by accident. Why
must you torment yourself in eternal imprisonment and ruin your unhappy
family!"
"I
can't, my dear," answered the prisoner. "I promised..."
"As a
prisoner, I'm sure you promised many things," continued his wife. "If
you don't return, no one will be able to do anything. Let's hurry away from
here, let's go to the Don. There we can live a free life. Our sons will grow up
to be brave Cossacks and will serve our Tsar batiushka for you."
The prisoner
considered the tempting words of his wife. To go away to the Don, to live in
freedom... But will it be like that? Will it really be good there? And the
conscience? That holy sponsor, who is more powerful than any prison or earthly
exile... What shall I do if I deceive his sacred memory? Everything will be
lost: there will be neither success, nor joy, nor happiness. I shall pine away
worse then a captive slave. It was not in vain that the prince said the Saint
would not permit deception.
Under the
persuasive arguments of his beloved wife, however, the unfortunate man again
began to waver, and he was close to giving in to the decision to run away with
his family. But there in the depths of his soul something powerful stopped him,
turning his mind towards what was just and true. The prisoner listened to this and
thought, "No, Saint Nicholas
won't allow it! I must act according to my conscience."
Taking leave
of his family the next day, he said to them: "Al-though it is difficult
lor me to part with you, I nevertheless feel that my conscience is at peace.
And I trust that he who is my surety will save me from further troubles and
misfortunes."
In two days
time he was already in Moscow and arrived at the prison an hour before
Rodomanovsky drove up. "I was passing by," said the prince to the
inspector who met him, "and I remembered about the convict who called upon
Saint Nicholas to act as his surety. His term of release is up. Has he
returned?"
"Yes,
your honor," replied the inspector. "An altogether extraordinary case. He returned
within the allotted time and is back in prison."
"Most
commendable!" Exclaimed the prince. "Today I'm to see the Tsar and I
shall tell him about this rare case."
The next day
the convict prison was buzzing with the news that in the morning a messenger
had come from the Tsar and had taken the prisoner to the palace. When the
prisoner returned everyone impatiently asked him what the Tsar-batiushka had
said to him.
"Our
majesty," replied the prisoner, "wished to know about the crime for
which I was sentenced. Then, having mercifully heard my admission, he said that
he is reducing my term."
Here the
prisoner crossed himself and added with emotion:
"Glory to
St. Nicholas the Wonderworker who, in a
critical moment, helped me to vanquish my temptation."
And within a
short time the prisoner was set at liberty...
Vol. 10,
Issue 11-18 Page 89 Orthodox Heritage
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