When came to San Francisco to be close to the saindy
Archbishop John Maximovitch, I heard a lot of fascnating accounts of his
ascetic life. Frequently' I visited St. Tikhon's Orphanage, founded by this
Saint, and run then by his long-time assistant, Mrs. Maria Alexandrovna
Shakhmatova (+1967). Archbishop John was a very busy man, and I did not dare to
be often in his presence.
Tire orphanage was no longer just a place where
children were sheltered. Within its walls was Archbishop John’s tiny office,
which was so small that even a bed would not fit, where he both lived and had
his prayertoom and office. I would visit him there, and have long constructive
talks that shaped my life.
one day came to see Mrs. I Shakhmatova, and she,
usual, insisted that stay tor tea. even though I never liked tea. She would
get me into her kitchen, almost next to Archbishop John's office, and ask.
almost in the form ot an interrogation, about my whereabouts, what I had done
that week, what I had read, etc. Usually she scolded me for not visiting her
more often and not being closer to
her “orphans,” who by then were already' leading their
own married lives.
This particular day I noticed a white pigeon with a
reddish pattern in its feathers, making pigeon noises outside the window on a
specially built ledge. I was pacing back and forth, obviously not intending
to fly away, but, as I assumed, waiting
to be fed. As it seemed no stranger to her, paid little attention then.
On that particular feast day of the Baptism of the
Lord, I chanced to be in St. Tikhon’s for the Blessing of Water, The service
was performed in the little courtyard right under the kitchen window, which had
a separate gtite from the street through which I had entered. To my great
surprise, as St. John was blessing the water, a dove flew right out
into the courtyard. It flapped its wings and actually soared over the basin of
holy water, while all of us vigorously sang: When Lhou, O Lord, west baptized
in the Jordan, the worship of the Trinity was made manifest. For the voice of
the Father bore witness unto thee, calling thee the beloved Son, and the Spirit
in the form of a dove confirmed His word as sure and steadfast..,
I was amazed, as I had never seen such a service with
a live dove hovering over this holiness.
The sight was unforgettable. St. John stood there with
lifted hands, holding a huge golden Cross high above his mitered head, and the
bird flew high about the building next door, and then with a swift graceful
glide descended upon the Saint and sat on his shoulder. Then, loudly flapping
its wings, it flew way up into the air, only to descend again, to the utter joy
of all there, and it did this several times. St. John, apparently oblivious to
the bird’s spectacular maneuvers, continued deep in prayer.
It seemed so
natural, as if it were all a standard part of the holy ceremony. A similar
event occurred in the life of St. Basil the Great, when a dove was seen by St.
Ephraim the Syrian to be “whispering holy words into St. Basil’s ear.” After
the service I was invited to drink a lot of the water inside St. Tikhon’s
Orphanage, and to partake of tasty'’ treats. Archbishop John was there, and the
bird was outside the window on
his ledge, apparently feeding. There I learned the
following touching story of Archbishop John’s “heavenly bird.”
Once Archbishop John came home to discover that a pigeon
was hurt, his wing was damaged, and was sitting outside the window. He opened
the window and let it in. The bird could barely flutter, and Arch¬bishop John
bound its wing and led it. That was enough to make it feel adopted. The bird
stayed around, especially when the Saint would arrive and would feed it. Actually it re¬mained a mystery how both of
them conversed. But one thing we knew: the pigeon reacted to the words of St.
John as if it understood what he said. 1 was told that both of them would sit
facing each other, the man softly speaking and the bird making its pigeon
sounds in agreement and peacefully walking to and fro, as if memorizing what it
was taught.
'Ibis company Archbishop John kept for a long time,
until his death. The pigeon lived on that window ledge and would often fly'
around in the kitchen and the main visiting room, and in the little corner
office of Mrs. Shakmatova in the northwestern corner of the house. I saw the
bird fly around, and wondered why they had no cage for it, as for a canary. But
I was told, “It is Archbishop John’s friend and companion.” It was a friendly
bird, often eating from his hands.
Once I came and saw Archbishop John sitting silently
next to the window, his head in his hand, thinking, watching the bird; and the
bird was sick never learned what was the matter, but there was silent contact between the dove
of the Baptism of the Lord and John its “Baptist.” (The altar boys said that,
by sprinkling the bird during the blessing of the water, Archbishop John had
baptized the pigeon, and that it was a “baptized" bird.) Mrs. Shakmatova
later told me that the bird was a sort of messenger of mysteries for Blessed
John, but I never pried for an explanation. On the day Archbishop John died,
the bird began to pace the window and flutter in agony, as if knowing about its
master.
One frequenter of St. Tikhon’s Orphanage wrote: “We
all learned to love that little friendly bird, who became a close friend to
man. It never flew too far from the house and never chased other birds, as if
its little heart sought warmth from people: and it had no greater joy than to
fly into the house and sit quietly on some corner of an armchair. Often when
Archbishop John would drink coffee in the kitchen, the bird would knock at the
window pane begging to be let in and then it would sit on the Saint’s shoulder
and watch his hands as he blessed the bird.
“When the death knell announced the earthly end of
Archbishop John, the bird was frantic. It fluttered in agony, missing the
Saint, and its little heart also stopped a few months afterwards, to our deep
sorrow.
remember how someone said firmly that one should not
cry over a bird, it is sinful. How harsh this resounded in my ears! Why is it a
sin when a quiet sadness touches a heart over the loss of the little ones given
to us by the Lord Himself to protect, who also are capable of giving us love. I
remember Archbishop John’s words to me when I used to complain that in some
cities birds are removed from the streets: Yes, now throughout the whole world,
attacks are carried out against all living beings that surround usd
At that time there was a veritable persecution of
pigeons in San Francisco, due to the assumption that they carried some disease,
and hundreds of them were poisoned or shot. 1 do not know these details. But I
do remember vividly the beautiful white-feathered creature flying about the
little bent- down figure of the precious Saint, who not only loved this God-sent
bird, but had some mystical contact with it. The bird appeared in his life when
he endured the greatest of his earthly trials; it forbade his ascent to the
other world, and some other mysteries I was told about.
That feathered little
creature of God was sent: as a consolation to the sorrowing man of God,
rendering him greater solace than men could do, who at that time were
inflicting upon him his greatest pain. Men who hate men cannot understand how
animals could be truly God-sent consolers.
A spiritual daughter of Archbishop John, Olga
Skopichenko, recalling this dove, even wrote a lovely poem, in which she hinted
that the appearance of the bird, damaged by cruel men, was for our Saint a
little window through which he gazed into Heaven.
Orthodox Heritage
Page 30 Vol 14, Issue 01-08
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου