READING

ANTI-VIRUS NOTES

Khatuna

Hi all! I am Vaho, nicknamed Antivirus. While browsing other people's blogs on the Internet, I decided to start my own. I don’t know how it will work out, but we’ll figure it out.

Somewhere I came across the saying “Life itself uninteresting person interesting in its own way.” This will be a chance to check it out.

For the sake of decency, I’ll start with a biography. Born in 1970, Tbilisi resident, Georgian father, Russian mother, school, college - the full set, like many. 16 years without official work. For several years I have been doing plumbing for computers: reinstalling Windows, inserting drivers and antiviruses, cleaning cases, etc. I go from house to house on call and, tapping on the keyboard, I observe life different types like a video camera. There are some cool things, I tell you.

Khatuna, my client, pushed me to start writing. It was then that we hooked up with her, and before that I got to her on a general basis, which means, through an advertisement. My mobile phone accepted the call and after a while I knocked my knuckles against her unpainted door, because there was no call. (It is already clear that my clients are “toiling and burdened.”)

A tall, pleasant woman opened the door for me. Two girls were spinning nearby: one was a schoolgirl, the other was even smaller.

I stepped straight into a renovation abandoned halfway, then under Khatunin a stream of apologies ended up in the only 3x5 living room. Here you have a bedroom, an office, and a dining room. An old computer with a bulky monitor stuck out in the corner. Opposite the entire wall is hung with paper icons. There is a burning lamp in front of them. I immediately realized: since there is a lamp, it means the composition is church, and not just candles burned for “luck.”

I started to figure out the computer. I hear Khatuna whispering to send her daughter to the store:

– Take cakes and coffee to the recording. It’s inconvenient, it’s his first time in our house.

After 10 minutes, a trio of eclairs was displayed next to me. What can I say here, it’s already clear: the hostess says hello. Nowadays, even few people feed painters during repairs - it’s an extra fuss, and there’s no talk at all about people like me.

I fiddled with it for a long time: the car was old, a pain in the ass.

Khatuna sighed sympathetically into the back of my head:

- I understand, it’s very old, but I can’t put it together for a new one...

I silently clicked on the buttons, angry at the whole world and feeling that I was stuck here for a long time.

–...Shevardnadze gave us this computer.

I turned my whole body to her:

- Personally?

“Imagine,” Khatuna confirmed, “I pray for him as a benefactor.”

I chuckled impolitely, I just couldn’t help it. All of Georgia spits at this name, but this blessed one prays. Probably the poverty is driving me crazy.

Khatuna continued without any insult:

“Everything you need comes on its own.” I really needed a computer for my girls. I don’t have money for tutors, nor for books. One salvation is the Internet.

My oldest had an exhibition of her drawings at school. She really draws beautifully. Some kind of secular commission headed by Shevardnadze came to the school. We looked at her drawings and gave her first place with a prize - a computer.

– And everything in your life works out so cleverly? – I said teasingly.

Khatuna did not react to this joke either. She answered without any tension:

– I’m telling you: everything you really need... When I buried my husband and was left alone with my two daughters, I thought I was going to go crazy. As you can see, it didn’t come off, quite the contrary. I have many plans for the future. I want to take out a loan from the mayor’s office and open a small store.

– And what will you trade? – I tried to hide my irony, but my voice gave it away. No, positively this woman will drive me crazy. After all, trade is a delicate matter.

– Mamao (“father, spiritual father"(cargo). – M.S.) blessed cigarettes and chewing gum – the most popular ones. Anything else won't work here. There are already three shops on the street. I just said to pray for every buyer.

I shut up. I imagined what a hassle it was to pray for everyone. I definitely wouldn’t have pulled it off, without that my nerves were below zero...

In short, she and I talked about this and that. She told me a lot of things. I listened and marveled to myself. No, not about how you get what you need from different hands, - this happens to everyone. There's another trick here. How does she manage to maintain such an attitude for years?

After all, I was once a man. I also had a mamao and went to services. At first it flew on wings, then (I didn’t even notice when exactly) it went out and abandoned it all. And all because of condemnation. Yes, that's a thing of the past...

According to Khatuna, such an oil painting emerged.

In the early 90s, she was interested in politics, ran to rallies, and looked for her place in the national idea. Then, like everyone else, she bravely worried glacial period in Georgia. (How can you forget, I collected pine cones myself in the park - there was no money for firewood.) She married her Svan late. Khatuna is a Svanka herself, she couldn’t imagine anyone else in her husband (here they are, stereotypes, what they do to people).

Her Nukri turned out to be a completely dense type. All I knew was how many liters of wine a real Georgian should drink per day and how much it would be in vodka equivalent. And a couple more similar truths. In the hungry 90s, they lived by selling junk from home. Nukri didn’t go to work and, of course, didn’t let his wife in. Khatuna could only cry quietly at the icons. She didn’t intend to get a divorce, and quarreling with a two-meter strong man was also more expensive for herself.

It was with such a sour start that her chain of miracles began, which grew into the confidence that every meeting was not accidental and everything needed would come on its own. In the same way, mamao Mikhail appeared in her life, and then the necessary spiritual books, tenants for one room (all this happened after the death of her husband), etc.

If you put me in such a situation - a husband from the 17th century, lack of money - I would have ended up with a knife fight, and Khatuna, excuse the cliché, was spiritually resurrected.

We parted on this note:

- Vaho, take a closer look at your life - you will see amazing things in yourself and around you...

I didn’t take my 20 lari, even though she tried to hand it to me. The fact is that I saw believers in droves, and Khatuna was exclusive.

In short, I decided to write it down after this, if anything interesting happens...

Joy is one for all

It seems that it was like this...

- Hey, Vaho, wait!

I was already entering the entrance, but I looked back at the scream. I see Uncle Vasya, my neighbor, looming by the bench and beckoning me with his hand.

I went. He had another look: a shirt of an incomprehensible color, White hair on one side they stand on end, and on the other it’s like they’ve been licked by a cow. Well, and everything else accordingly. How Aunt Shura died - that’s it, the old man rolled away.

“I have a request for you,” Uncle Vasya began after exchanging greetings. - Tomorrow is Easter. Paint my three eggs with onions so they are brown. The neighbors in our building are almost all new. I don't want to pull them. And you are yours, you grew up before my eyes, I know you won’t refuse.

– Why brown? – I didn’t understand. - What, war, or what? Mom paints in hendro (roots of a plant that give a red color when boiled - M.S.). They come out bright red, just like in the advertisement.

The old man’s hands shook with nerves. He has had Parkinson's for 10 years.

- Don't talk! “Advertising-ama,” he mimicked me. – I’m telling you in Russian: I need brown eggs. For me, color is the main thing. I want to remember Nino.

“It’s clear,” I think, “where the wind is blowing from. Probably his mistress." As my mother says: a hungry godfather has bread on his mind. And I winked at him, trying not to go beyond the bounds of decency:

- Well, Uncle Vasya, you weren’t lost in your time on the women’s front, huh?

“Ugh,” the old man got angry. “I’m talking about Ivan, and he’s talking about the idiot.”

“That’s it, that’s it, I’m silent,” I slowed down. - You will have brown eggs. No problem,” and went all-in: “And who is Nino, if it’s not a secret?”

Uncle Vasya softened:

- This was still at the front. In 1944, my unit fought in Ukraine. And then one spring I saw: our signalman Nino had three eggs in a pot. onion skins cooks I was surprised. “What,” I say, “are you doing here?” “Today is Easter,” she answers, and she is all shining. “Yesterday I wanted to paint it, but it didn’t work out.”

In the meantime, she fished out one testicle, handed me an even hot one in a rag and said: “Christe ahsdga!” "What, what?" – I didn’t understand. Then I heard these words for the first time. I never thought or imagined that after the war I would settle in Georgia and hear them every year.

And Nino translates to me with a laugh: “Christ is risen!” “Quiet,” I chickened out for her. “The political instructor will show you who has risen.” She just waved her hand: “Let him hear,” she said. Today is such a day!”

– Was she beautiful? – I asked.

Uncle Vasya paused, chewed his lips, appraising, then said:

- Ordinary. She looks short, her eyes are thoughtful.

The old man looked up at me with his blind, red-veined eyes and finished muffledly:

- On that day German sniper shot.

I coughed. As they say, “they didn’t wait.”

Uncle Vasya was silent for a while, then said:

- Last night I saw her in a dream, like you now. It's like he's standing in front of me and brown egg hands it to me. And I give her exactly the same and say the words in response: “Truly he is risen!”

He glanced at me from under his brows and concluded in a completely incongruous manner:

“I’ll die this year, Vaho, mark my words.” And that’s how it got on.

“What are you talking about, Uncle Vasya,” I began to calm him down. - Live a hundred years.

- What am I, a crow, or what? – he just smiled wryly.

“You saved the world from fascism,” I said a little picturesquely. I couldn’t think of a smarter person at that time.

“Savior, yes, of course,” Uncle Vasya responded ironically. – The other day Lasha, Nugzar’s son, was chatting something with the boys in English in the yard. I told him: “Do you even know who won World War II?” He took these... wires out of his ears, but at first he didn’t understand. Then he wrinkled his forehead and said: “Americans, it seems, but what?”

- Well, what is it like, huh? – Uncle Vasya slapped his fist on his knee. – What do they teach them at school, Vaho?

“Yes, they teach them normally,” I say. “It’s just that this loafer sits in class with headphones on and has no idea what the teacher is saying.” What to take from them? American generation. My brains don’t work beyond my Facebook.

Uncle Vasya looked sideways at me, took a deep breath, like a horse at a watering hole, and ended the conversation:

- In general, I have no words, no words! – and shuffled towards the entrance.

“There are no words” - this is because present time Uncle Vasya has a well-deserved big tooth. According to his political convictions, he blindly stands for Putin (he does not perceive Medvedev at all). Moreover, he is guided by his iron logic: “On May 9, Putin held a parade on Red Square, but what did Saakashvili do? 100 lari for teeth that don’t exist, and a stunted wreath for a soldier’s grave?”

And the fact that he, a Russian, is not allowed into this very Red Square without a visa is generally a bleeding wound, but he carries this pain within himself and does not advertise it.

And so I looked at this hunched, retreating back, and such anger took over me that there were simply no words.

I ran upstairs and immediately typed a message on Saakashvili’s personal website: “Misha, be a man, return benefits for electricity and gas to veterans! History will not forgive! And he signed with his full name.

I sent it and thought: what will change this? Yes, basically, nothing. Vasya himself doesn’t give a damn about these benefits, he walks around like a sleepwalker. He needs something else.

But I had to do something. My soul was burning...

Today I was running up the stairs to answer a call, Nugzar stopped me:

-Have you heard the news? Our front-line soldier, Uncle Vasya... everything, went down in history.

And seeing how slow I was thinking, he added:

- He died this morning.

I almost slipped on the steep stairs, all I said was:

Surely now Uncle Vasya is in a bright place, where visa regime and benefits for utilities are unnecessary, but only one constant joy. Because for everyone “Christ is risen.”

Trip to Bari

I came home yesterday, and my mother, freaking out, reported to me:

– Your vampire wife came from Italy. I asked you to come in.

She doesn’t like Bela, my classmate, she just can’t stomach it. I nicknamed her the vampire because she hangs on the phone with me for an hour - pouring out her soul.

Bela is her own type, there is more than enough kindness in her, like completeness - she will weigh 150 or 170 kg. She is in eternal languor from both. Excess weight mobility reduces, and kindness - everyone strives to ride around. In this situation, the reasons for complaints about life are through the roof. Bela is a convinced atheist - and at the same time constantly demands an account from the Lord God: why, they say, is this world so poorly organized? Of course, her connection with Heaven is not established and her claims always remain unanswered. That’s why my friend’s nerves are below zero and waves of depression overwhelm her. At such moments, and this happens often, Bela grabs the phone and calls me.

I remember two years ago I called and let’s complain about my friend Lina, who “cheated her out of money” (did not return the debt) and drove off to Italy with some guy:

- And this scoundrel is lucky! How lucky! I grabbed such a guy!

Men are a sore subject for Bela. There were so many experiments, but to no avail. All gigolos come across.

Meanwhile, squelching sounds were coming from the tube:

- Waho-o... I ask you as a brother, find me someone. You go to church, maybe some guy will turn up there.

I mentally went through the “types” and imagined Bela next to me. The mosaic definitely didn’t fit.

- There's a dead number there. Firstly, there are few men, plus all the normal ones have long been dismantled.

“Vakho, come up with something,” Bela said. – When is your general meeting there?

I realized that you couldn’t get rid of her so easily, and said reluctantly:

- Unction this Thursday. There will be a lot of people.

The squelching stopped immediately.

- And what's that? – Bela became interested.

“Involuntary and forgotten sins are forgiven,” I muttered quickly.

- Fits! – Bela lit up. - I'm coming!

“You’re an unbeliever,” I say.

- Fuck you! Very much a believer. If only there was any sense. Look at yourself. Either you go to church or you go to school.

I was silent. There was nothing to cover it with.

- Better tell me which saint there helps you get married well.

“Like Nicholas the Wonderworker,” I said the first thing that came to mind.

– I will work in this direction! – the receiver smacked her lips with delight.

Then neither I nor she had any idea what this “direction” of hers would lead to.

Bela appeared at the church without delay, armed with some kind of Bedouin blanket with camels, and instead of greeting, she announced to me:

- This is so that the grandmothers don’t cling.

And immediately took the bull by the horns:

- So. Where are the clients?

A fair number of people had already gathered, mostly new faces. Someone started a rumor that unction was good for health. So the people fell in families, with infants. Fortunately, there is no obligation to pay - as much as you give.

Bela looked critically at the field of activity:

“Yes, not a lot...” and immediately summed up a hopeless conclusion: “There is one foreman for every hundred women.”

But then she spotted the object:

- Vaho, that bald guy on the right - what is he breathing?

- Leave him alone, he drinks often. Now shh: they are already reading the Gospel.

Bela lit a meter-long candelabra and hung a canvas with camels on her bleached curls. Five minutes later, a whisper came from under her disguise:

– And the one in front has a beard like a Neanderthal?

“Don’t touch him,” I hissed from the corner of my mouth. - Preparing to become a monk.

- Seriously? - and then she made a “diagnosis”: “I don’t need it with a broken roof.”

Then Olga, standing in front of her, turns to her and mumbles, rolling her eyes menacingly:

- Ooh, the harlot of Babylon! Let's get out of here! They've completely lost their shame... They're already hanging out in church...

We didn't communicate for some time. Then Bela was the first to call. Delight flowed like a fountain from the tube:

– Vaho, congratulate me, I’ve gotten in with the Lutherans!

It was like I was choking on a lemon.

- Why do you need it? Are you looking for options again?

– You are completely behind the times! – Bela looks like a nightingale. “I’ve done a huge job.” Now my daughter, if she doesn’t miss Sunday school, will be sent to Germany for free. I also climbed into the ranks of deaconesses there.

- Where?! - I frowned. I definitely didn’t expect such agility.

- Clean your ears! To deaconesses. They wrote about me in their church newsletter. Famous person I am now. Missed it, Vaho?

– What will you have with the deaconesses?

– Everything has been calculated, Vahunhula. For especially honorable parishioners they have an almshouse and provide decent rations. I've already thought of everything. I will send my daughter to Germany for nothing, during which time she will learn German at this Sunday school. She'll get married. And at worst, I will have my own warm haven there in my old age in their almshouse. Yes, just in case. Well? Everything ingenious is simple! – Bela triumphantly concluded her business plan with a Lutheran slant. And then she also summed up an unexpected result: “It’s Nikolai the Wonderworker who helps me.”

I was involuntarily indignant:

- You? Nicholas the Wonderworker?! Well, you know, everything has its limit.

There was an explosion of indignation at the other end:

– Isn’t it you, the orthodox, who set your own limits everywhere?..

(“Wow, the Lutherans have already worked hard,” I noted to myself.)

“Look, they’ve gone completely crazy,” Bela said in her usual tone, “they’ve already declared a monopoly on the saints.” Who said that even Muslims pray to him and he does everything that is needed? Am I a redhead or something?

I became stumped and shut up. Bela also calmed down slightly:

– I have a goal, you understand, Vakho. Get out of fucking Tbilisi. Otherwise, I’ve completely rotted here... – lyrical notes were heard in her voice. – Again, I have a dream. Live in Germany or Italy, have your own farm with a pink fence and raise pigs. Plant your own flowers...

– Get it all here. Just think, a dream.

- Oh, what do you understand? This is Europe, and this is Georgia. One word is worth it. Everything here is ruined for me, understand? That’s why I go to these Lutherans every Sunday at 9 a.m., like going to work, and sleep away.

- What are you doing?

- I'll scream. There they sing some hymns, and I howl - I create the background. You have to be active there, otherwise they will trample on you.

In general, we talked like this and said goodbye. After some time, something happened that made me believe in the intercession of the saint.

- Vaho, are you standing there? – Bela calls a week later. - Sit down, sit down. Otherwise you will collapse.

I sat down because I realized that there was a long retelling ahead latest news.

“Linka called me from Italy,” Bela blurted out and fell silent, enjoying the effect.

- What did you want?

– She apologized and bawled into the phone. She almost played the game in Italy, she says. And out of fear, she swore an oath to God that she would return the money to me. That's why I called.

“Well, then you have a bottle,” I say.

- What else is that! – Bela saved the shock for last. - She knows mine headache. She promised to find me a groom there. “Our women are in great demand there,” he says. Well, Vaho, is it not in vain that I light candles?

- Will he really find it? – I didn’t believe such coincidences.

“I feel in my heart that he will find you!” – Bela was breathing into the phone like a horse at the finish line. – I already sent her a photo of myself against the backdrop of the neighbor’s cool furniture to raise the brand...

A month later, Bela called me “for champagne” and proudly laid out an Italian visa from some pensioner Giovanni on the table.

– Where does your betrothed live? – I asked, leafing through the form.

“There’s some kind of town on “B,” Bela shrugged her mighty shoulder indifferently. - I don't care. The main thing here is that he has already sent money for the trip.

Meanwhile, I found the exact address and couldn’t believe my eyes. It read: Bari.

- Uh, are you frozen? – the bride was alarmed five minutes later. - Creepy hole, huh?

– There is a shrine with the relics of St. Nicholas.

Bela took this for granted.

- Well, have you wiped yourself off, Orthodox monopolist?

I strained my gray matter, trying to comprehend such fantastic coincidences. Then he realized:

– Where are you going to take Marika?

(Marika is Belin’s twelve-year-old daughter.)

– Everything is captured, Vaho! Gocha takes her to Khoni, to his third wife.

(And Gocha is Belin’s fourth common-law husband.)

- Why does he need this burden?

“I promised him my father’s parachute.” About twenty years ago, his father quietly carried him out of the airport. It was rotting in my basement.

I howled at these switches:

– Why does he, the driver, need a dead parachute?

- No need. For show off. I told him: “No one in Georgia has a personal parachute, not even the president, but you will.” So he took the bait. He promised: “They will look after Marika like Queen Tamara.”

The news that Bela was going to Bari from Plekhanov-94 quickly spread among mutual friends and neighbors. There was surprise with undisguised envy:

“There’s nowhere to put a stamp on it, but it’s such happiness.” Here people live like monks and cannot go to Mtskheta again - there is no money, but this one (unflattering review) is like everything was made to order! – Belina’s sworn enemy Eteri spoke in the courtyard.

They gave her a bunch of candles. And everyone has one request:

– Light it there to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker for us!

In short, Bela memorized an Italian phrasebook from cover to cover in a month and left for Italy to arrange her personal life.

That was the background.

Having learned that my fighting friend was already in the homeland of my ancestors, I dropped everything and rushed to her.

Bela met me in her tiny balcony kitchen. On the windowsill on the other side of the window one could see her “vegetable garden” in old pots - onions, dill and a yellow rose.

The conqueror of Italy has clearly lost 20 kilos.

“Wow, you look great,” I managed to interject while a hail of kisses mixed with tears rained down on me. - When is the wedding?

I was immediately pushed out of the embrace onto a rickety stool and heard:

- There will be no wedding. I returned home, Vaho. Understand? Home! Believe it or not, when I left our airport, I fell to my knees and kissed our spit-stained asphalt.

- Was it really that disgusting for you there?

“How can I tell you?” Bela thought about it, trying to formulate her thoughts more precisely. - Giovanni is okay, man. Of course, things can get worse. And he liked me and asked me to marry. Officially, everything is honorable. I tried my best there Georgian cuisine I cooked for him. Satsivi, chakhokhbili, khachapuri Adjarian bakes. He almost ate the plate afterwards. In short, everything is top-notch. He himself, however, is a rare miser. He fed me cacti, fried in vegetable oil. He says it goes very well with spaghetti. And he made the bacon himself. But that's not the point. After Gocha the swindler, nothing will surprise me at all. I could get along with Giovanni too.

– What, you didn’t like the Italians?

“No,” Bela sighed, “pasta makers are like our Georgians.” They are just as noisy and love to boo. In all of Italy, only Giovanni is extravagant. His brothers gave me a bunch of gifts. Everything is fine. I lived there and realized: although it’s good for them there, it’s not mine. I won't be happy there. By the way, I visited St. Nicholas the Wonderworker and bowed to him. I left your candles in that church. Catholics don’t burn them in front of icons - probably Fire safety or something else. Not accepted, in short. I stood there by the relics and said to myself: “Did Saint Nicholas really bring me here so that I could understand where my happiness is?”

- And where is it, Bel? Kolis!

“Here it is,” she pointed to a small courtyard outside the window with laundry on lines and a 19th-century faucet, on the sides overgrown with moss.

“All I need in life is my daughter Marika, my garden with onions, the dusty air of Tbilisi, Mtatsminda with the TV tower, my friends and, of course, you, Vakho!”

What can I say, this is where it hit me:

Bel, I always knew you had a heart of gold.

Fuck you! - she pushed me in the side with her rounded elbow and, turning away, began to cry from an excess of feelings...

Maria SARAJISHVILI
Tbilisi, 2011-2012

October 28, 2014

Maria Sarajishvili
FOR GOOD INSTITUTIONS
Thus we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another.
(Rom. 12:5)
Therefore, if one member suffers, all members suffer with it; if one member is glorified, all members rejoice with it.
(1 Cor. 12:26)
Having met Elena in 1994, Varvara was beside herself with delight. This is the man she had been looking for for so long. Here you have a ready answer to any spiritual question, miracles, an impressive library of the lives of saints, and a rare ability to listen and delve into your problems. What else does a neophyte need?

Not every priest will provide this, and in order to get to him, wait another hour in line for the same impatient and crowded “sisters in Christ” who have recently become churchgoers.
Another thing is Elena. Listening and empathizing was her calling. Fortunately, there were no time restrictions. Elena no longer worked at her research institute, rightly judging that you would spend more on travel than you would receive a coupon salary. And she lived, without twitching, by selling goat’s milk from her dacha on the mountain.
So there was no end to the conversations at the beginning of our acquaintance.
And after the next meeting, something like this happened. Before farewell, Elena will pray at her paper images (in her tiny “Khrushchev” all the eastern walls were like one big iconostasis) and suddenly she will say the unexpected:
– Don’t go on the metro, Varyusha. Take the bus.
Varvara, out of the spirit of resistance, will definitely go to the metro, but it’s bang - closed. Again, it turns out that the power was turned off in the city. Then I had to catch up with a crowded bus and hang on the step the whole way, clinging to a rickety handrail.
Varvara then tried to get to the bottom of the truth:
– What is your trick here?
Elena only answered with a restrained smile:
– The Lord reveals to me in prayer what to do.
- Why doesn’t it work out for me? – Varvara did not let up.
“Listen to what I say, and in time everything will come.”
In short, Varvara buzzed all the ears of her friends:
- What a person I dug up!
Her older friends didn’t pay attention to her emotions, but the younger group - seventeen-year-old girls - were very interested.
- Well, introduce me!
Varvara very quickly arranged something like a briefing after Sunday service. Along the way, it became clear that Katya, Natella, Oksana and Nina were not interested in the subtleties of a theosophical nature. They asked Elena a specific question:
– How to get married successfully?
Elena was not taken aback, she immediately gave them the brochure “Christian Marriage” and the long “Prayer of a Maiden for Marriage.”
Here she is:

“Oh, all-merciful Lord, I know that my great happiness depends on the fact that I love You with all my soul and with all my heart and that I fulfill Your holy will in everything. Rule Yourself, O My God, over my soul and fill my heart. I want to please You alone, for You are the Creator and my God. Save me from the pride of selfishness; let reason, modesty and chastity adorn me. Idleness is disgusting to You and gives rise to vices, give me the desire to work hard and bless my labors. Since Your law commands people to live in an honest marriage, then lead me, Holy Father, to this title sanctified by You, not to please my lust, but to fulfill Your destiny, for You Yourself said: “It is not good for a man to be alone,” and, Having created a woman as his helper, he blessed them to grow, multiply and populate the Earth (Gen. 1: 28; 2: 18). Hear my humble prayer, sent to You from the depths of a girl’s heart, give me an honest and pious spouse, so that in love and harmony we glorify You, the merciful God of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen".
That's where we parted.
The girls decided to read it every day.
Telling the story of each individually will result in a multi-part film. It is worth dwelling on Katya Japaridze, since in her epic there was a place for all the heroes of the story.
The Nativity Fast of 1994 began.
Varvara heard rumors that Katya was getting married. And her irrepressible friend immediately went to the other end of the city to find out the details. But the details did not inspire optimism.

Katya's chosen one, Dito, was 27 years old, had already been married several times, was chronically unemployed and homeless. Consequently, he is now a contender for Katya’s apartment - Varvara analyzed the available information along the way. As for the apartments, she turned it down as usual. In fact, this is a lopsided squatter building near a garbage dump, measuring 4 by 4, without windows, with a dirt floor, a bathroom in the shape of a birdhouse in the yard, not even a fence of any kind. What kind of need did Katya’s mother live in under the communists, since she didn’t build anything better for herself?! So, deducting under the shaking of the tram, Varvara reached the familiar ravine on Moskovsky Prospekt.
And so Varvara sits by the flickering kerosene stove and listens to the finishing touches on the portrait of her official husband:
- He is very Difficult person, says Katya. “He drank and used drugs, and he had a lot of women. But this is my cross. I prayed, and God sent it to me.
- Where did you get the idea?
– We met in September. I started asking for him every day, and he hasn’t drunk for four months now. I can save him. We have such a spiritual connection that we feel each other from a distance.
- What if he breaks down?
Katya has some kind of doom in her voice:
- Come what may. We have already submitted an application. We've already bought food for the table. Don't throw it away.
– You’re not 18 yet. Wait until you reach adulthood. Besides, it's fasting now.
- It’s okay, we’ll get married later.
“He’s unemployed, let him at least find a job first,” Varvara continued, feeling like a wise minnow. – And how will you all live here together: you and Dito, and also your mother and stepfather? – nodded towards Katya’s mansion. - By the way, what does your mother say?
- She is agree.

There was no point in arguing further. And Varvara went to Elena to report the collected news.
In short, the wedding took place, Natella was a witness.
December 19 Natella called and shouted into the phone:
- We have an emergency. Dito got completely drunk and severely beat Katya, so much so that she had black eyes. She tried to cut her wrists, but it didn’t work. Now the girls and I take turns running there so that they don’t do anything to each other. We don't know what to do!
“What to do,” Varvara also had no idea and went to Elena’s dacha, where she had already moved to take care of her paralyzed mother and father.
- Poor girl! God help her,” Elena crossed herself upon hearing the news. “I knew he would fall apart.” During Lent, the enemy is especially furious.
Then she went to the icons; After silently praying for some time, she said:
“She needs to immediately confess and receive communion.” And the Lord will provide a way out... After all, it was pride on her part to save him. Can we, sinners, save anyone? The Lord saves. Then this non-church marriage during Lent, the suicide attempt... Explain all this to her in more detail. And let him go to church tomorrow.
“He doesn’t let her out of the house.”
- It’s okay, you and Natella will pray by agreement, I’ll ask from here. And the Lord will soften his heart. Comfort her, tell her not to lose heart. Now go straight to the church, to the priest on duty, tell everything and do as he blesses. The Lord put this on my heart, but I am a sinful person...

Father Paul, after listening to the whole story, without hesitation, said the same thing:
– Let him confess as soon as possible, take communion – and something will change for the better. And with this “husband” of hers,” he raised his voice, “I give my blessing to divorce.” Drug addiction doesn't go away that easily. Even if they were married, the Church removes the crown from drug addicts. After all, he can force her to use drugs. So tell him to get a divorce quickly...
Seeing Varvara, Katya burst into tears:
- I don’t want to live. I’m afraid to be alone with him,” and, taking the opportunity that Dito was chopping wood in the yard, she showed her forearm with red dots – marks of a fork.
Soon the culprit of the commotion himself appeared. Seeing the guest, he smiled, took out vodka and a plate of anchovy:
- Help yourself, girls.
Then there was a performance called “receiving guests” with the participation of all those present. Dito was the toastmaster, Varvara was zealous with reciprocal toasts and sprinkled in anecdotes to lull vigilance, choking on corned beef without bread. But she still managed to convey what was said and set up a meeting for tomorrow, with little hope for the success of the enterprise.
The next morning, Varvara, to her great surprise, came across Katya and Natella in the vestibule. I even began to stutter.
- I beg you, how did this happen?
“I don’t know why he let me go.” I lied that today is a special day for family life and so on,” and Katya adjusted her black glasses – a disguise for bruises under her eyes. – It’s still fantastic. Just yesterday he didn’t even let me in to buy bread, but now I don’t know what came over him.

Varvara didn’t ask what she said to the priest, she just watched in surprise as Katya, after some time, approached Communion. Then everyone dispersed to digest their impressions.
The miracles did not end that day. Varvara rushes to Trikotazhka, is late for her shift, and lo and behold: Makvala Tetradze is coming from the Quality Control Department, smiling from a distance.
-What are you thinking so hard about? - asks. -Your face is like a TV.
Varvara summed up all the latest adventures in a nutshell, because Makvala is one of her kind. The very understanding and compassion for everyone around you. Makvala listened, listened, and suddenly suggested something brilliantly simple:
- Let your Katya come to live with me.
And he hands the key to Varvara:
- Here. Here you go. It will only be more fun for me. He won't find her here. And even if he finds it, he won’t do anything: the police are in the hostel around the clock... And I’ll tell the commandant that he’s coming to me cousin I came from Gardabani.
Varvara squeezes the key in her hand and does not believe such luck. Again, it means the blessing worked. Here it is: “After Communion, the Lord will provide a way out!”
But, unfortunately, Katya did not take advantage of this.
“I’ll still be patient, I’ll wait.” Maybe he’ll improve,” she said when she learned about the key.
In vain Varvara tried to persuade her, described all the charm of the hostel option, and promised to carry food and everything she needed.
Katya, as they say, stuck her horns in:
- I’ll still be patient.

In order to somehow speed up events, Varvara went to order a prayer service to Father Philaret, who still knew nothing about the whole story.
Five of them gathered in front of the image " Unexpected Joy" Father Filaret came out with a cross and the Gospel. Everyone handed him their notes with their names. Father began to read them, and when he reached Katya, he raised his voice:
-...holy martyrs Gury, Samon and Aviv, pray to God for her.
Further more. Having reached the name of the alcoholic, known only to Varvara, he again raised his voice:
– ...holy martyrs Boniface, Moses Murin and Saint righteous John Kronstadt, pray to God for him.
The same thing happened with other names in the notes. It was clear from the surprised faces of the others that he was addressing precisely those saints whose help those commemorated needed.
Varvara just gasped, but didn’t dare ask questions. The status is not the same and the situation is not suitable.
Two months have passed. For Katya, everything remains unchanged: terror on his part and the desire to endure everything on her part.
Then the long-awaited call from Katya:
- Come to me at such and such an address. I really need to see you. I left my husband and live with my cousin...
Varvara goes to her and thinks dearly, Clever words looking for what to say, how to console a person after such a trauma.
And Katya “made her 1:1” right out of the gate, deafening:
- Please bring it to me New Testament, - and sadly explained: - my own Dito, when he was drunk, tore it up... I really need spiritual literature.
“Here you go!” - Varvara is slow to think, immediately forgetting what she had prepared. smart speech. – Wow switching! Now she herself will console anyone you want.”
“The Lord showed me such miracles that it is simply impossible to live on without thinking. And Katya began to excitedly tell her further, as if she was afraid of not being able to make it in time:
“This was not life, but something that I cannot express in words.” Constant fear. He started using drugs again. And when he arrived drunk or drugged, he didn’t look like a person at all. Destroyed everything around. How many times have I wanted to commit suicide? And the Lord always kept me from this. Just as I get ready to do something, at that moment someone will come or unwittingly interfere. Once I even broke the thermometer and drank mercury. Then I sat down to read the Bible. I expected that I would be poisoned, but nothing happened... And the dreams were amazing... Again somehow despondency came over me, well, I think I can’t live like this anymore - and that same night I saw in a dream that what would await me after death if I I’ll decide to take this step. It was such a nightmare that I couldn’t wait for the morning, I just mentally asked: “Lord, extend my life”...

She spoke very confusingly, trying to grasp the immensity that had happened over the past months.
- In general, then I made a vow: “Lord, deliver me from him, and I will live differently.” At first, Dito didn’t even want to hear about the divorce. As soon as I started talking about it, he started yelling that he would kill me so that no one would get me at all. And then one day he calmly said: “Let’s separate. There’s no life anyway.” And here I am, with my sister, safe...
At the end of her story, Katya explained why she needed an urgent meeting with Elena:
- I made a vow. I don’t know what exactly to do. She can tell me where to start...
A few days later, the friends went together to Elena’s dacha.
As for Katya, after being there, she began to regularly attend services and pray to get a divorce and find a job as soon as possible. Both of her wishes were soon fulfilled. And Father Philaret concretized the vow she made as the feasible conduct of church life.

After getting hired as a cleaner in a cafe (5 lari per day), Katya’s life gradually returned to a calm direction.
Another six months passed. Dito began to drop in on Katya, who had become prettier both internally and externally, under one pretext or another. Again homeless, unemployed, hungry.
- Well, what should I do? – Katya sighed. - How can I kick him out if he asks for bread? I feed the dog, but don’t give it to the man? The other day, for example, he knocks on my door: “Bring out,” he says, “a glass of boiling water.” Of course, she did. He threw a briquette of Galina Blanca soup into it, stirred it with a knife and drank it. The man misses something hot.
-What does he live on? – the vindictive Varvara lazily asked. For some reason she had no pity for Dito. The old tooth for beating my friend has not yet gone away.
- No matter what. He picks through pockets on our tram or steals little things at the market. He owes everyone. Always hiding from someone. I feel sorry for him.
- After everything that happened?
- I forgave him everything. He is spiritually sick... Besides, he asks about God. I answer him as best I know. Here you are, he wrote a letter to me on ten sheets of paper,” and takes out the sheets of scribbled paper. “Here is his whole life in detail.” You can read it and not judge why he is like this.
Varvara could only admire:
- Well, there you go, friend. I'm far from you.
Despite this prelude, Varvara was amazed when she met Dito in church a week later. It's winter, and he's wearing only a shirt. He came up and greeted me politely. Apparently I remembered the old toasts.
- Not cold?
- I'm used to it.

He stood up for the entire service in silence and left.
Then he began to come to church with Katya. She, as they say, fluttered: Dito, they say, decided to start new life. Naturally, she took care of him in every possible way, trying to introduce him to what she liked.
A little later, having secured the blessing of Father Filaret and an official invitation from Elena, everyone went together to her dacha.
This was the first Sunday of Great Lent - the Triumph of Orthodoxy. A table was set for this occasion.
“It’s no coincidence that the Lord has gathered us here today,” this is how the hostess began her toast. – This is what unity of faith means! In our time, it is a special mercy of God to have like-minded people. I will say in the words of Pushkin: “Friends, our union is wonderful.” Let's drink to our unity. And may the Lord keep us in such unanimity in the future.
After the meal, the male minority - Dito and Semyon - busied themselves with the firewood. And the female majority does housework.
On Elena’s initiative, Dito stayed to live at the dacha in order to “successfully spend the first fast in his life” and at the same time quit smoking and drinking.

The first two weeks everything went fine. Dito enthusiastically sawed wood, dug a vegetable garden, and in the breaks he read the Gospel every three hours; in the evenings, when all the day’s work was over, by the light of a kerosene stove he poured out his wounded soul to Elena - about how the street turned him from the age of 15, then she but being mean, she pushed me into stealing and drugs.
Then his zeal began to subside and by the end of the fast it completely disappeared. Delight gave way to despondency. Dito cherished the hope of getting back together with Katya, but this did not work out, since she first demanded to find a job, which Dito was in no hurry to look for.
In vain Elena tried to explain to him:
– Sincerity and selflessness are the key to our unity. The Lord preserves us as one family because we are open to each other. We open our thoughts to each other so that something unclean does not creep into our communication...
But Dito continued.

At the end of May, Dito borrowed 20 lari from Elena and was gone.
- Why did you give it to him? – Varvara got angry when she learned about his departure. – It’s a no brainer that he scammed you like a fraer.
Elena winced at the “fraer”, but calmly answered for Varvara something completely illogical:
“It was clear to me in advance that he would not return them to me.” But it was impossible to refuse him. Otherwise, he would have condemned all believers... Oh, what a chance God gave him to start all over again, but he crossed it all out!
- Well, let him condemn! – Varvara persisted. “And so, I suppose, he’s glad that his business got through.” And 20 lari went down the drain.
It soon became clear that Dito was on a drinking binge again.
On Trinity Sunday everyone gathered in the church. A depressed Katya came and broke the news:
– Dito is freaking out, threatening to steal the goats. He boasts that he has some friends and a plan of action.
“Well,” Elena was not afraid, “let’s then read the prayer according to the agreement “for the admonition of those who hate us”...
Another year has passed. Katya changed several eateries in search of a better paying job. Life and environment took their toll, and spiritual life faded into the background.
Sometimes, on major holidays, she went to the church and, not embarrassed by people, cried, saying: “What a nonentity I am! Nothing will come of me!”
This was clearer than anything to Varvara, she was the same person, so she reassured her with what she read in Elena’s books, in the words of Bishop Varnava: “I don’t demand anything from you: neither abstinence, nor sleeping on bare boards, nor long prayers, but just reproach yourself for everything, always, in every place.”

In May 1998, Elena's mother reposed in the Lord.
On September 25, 1998, Likusha called Varvara and screamed like crazy:
- You make money there! And Elena was attacked and severely beaten! She and her dad both have concussions!
Varvara, passing the sensation further along the chain, immediately rushed up the mountain like a bullet. She ran through the open gate and saw: everything in the house was upside down, there were splashes of blood on the walls here and there. Uncle Kolya stood up to meet her. The wound on his head was shallow, but impressive.
– At 11 at night we read evening rule and went out to sprinkle the yard, as the priest blessed us,” he said, pausing every now and then to clear his throat. – I hear the dogs barking. We went to the end of the yard. Suddenly some guys jumped over the net from behind and in front. They pointed knives at us: “Lead them into the house, they say, and take the dogs away, otherwise things will get worse!” What was to be done? We drove the dogs into kennels, and Umka broke free and grabbed onto the main dog. He hit her with all his might and used a piece of pipe. My Umochka died,” then the old man began to cry.
Varvara listened and didn’t understand: “They almost killed themselves, and he’s killing the dog. What a blessed lineup!”
“...We went into the house,” Uncle Kolya gradually calmed down and continued. “I ask: “Just don’t touch your daughter!” They say: “Don’t worry, grandfather”... They began to demand money from us. “We know,” they say, “that you have $5,000.” The daughter tells them: “I have never seen such money in my life. We live on the fact that we sell milk.” They didn’t believe it and started beating her. I tried to defend myself. Then they hit me on the head with something heavy. I fell and they began to trample me with their feet. The whole chest was beaten off. I tell them: “Who are you hitting? Are you beating a front-line soldier?” And they don't care. Oh, as soon as I remember, everything is spinning in my head... Then they ransacked the whole house. Of course, they didn’t find anything and took what they had: 30 lari and food: a bottle of vegetable oil and two kilos of buckwheat.
- I beg you, what disgraceful thieves have gone! – Varvara snorted, despite the tragedy of the situation.
“And the leader sat down at the table,” Uncle Kolya continued, “he dropped his head in his hands and said: “Where did I end up?” Then he left, soon returned and said: “I beat the one who brought us here.” Then they tied us up and left us lying on the floor. The elder says: “We will take your cattle.” - "Well. Take it,” we answer. Two went to drive out the herd, and two remained to guard us. We look through the window: our goats are running. After some time, those two return and say: “Some force is preventing us from stealing the goats. We brought them back to the barn.” Then they began to wash off the blood from us and untie the ropes. Then they shook my hand goodbye: we apologized, saying that there was a mistake. They took our junk, even my new, unworn socks, the ones that Katya knitted, grabbed them and left...
Soon Elena arrived. There is a knife cut under the eye, bruises on the face, and both hands are covered with adhesive tape to cover the cuts.
“These are animals, not people,” Varvara blurted out. – What did they do to you!
“These are unfortunate people persecuted by a demon,” was her quiet answer. – Don’t judge them, Varyusha. The Lord brought them to our mountain to give them another chance to repent and save their souls. In two of them there was still a spark of God left, and the other two had already completely lost their human appearance.
- Come on, you’re okay with every nasty thing spiritual meaning search! – Varvara snapped. – What kind of salvation are we talking about when this is what they did?!
Then Katya came running out of breath and, seeing all the destruction, began to cry from the doorway:
- Forgive me, Elena Nikolaevna! This is all because of me. There was no need to drag this scoundrel here. I'm a fool, I'm hanging my ears: a person wants to start a new life.

Elena hugged her with barely bending arms.
– You did everything right. Don't blame yourself, dear. “All this is not accidental,” and Varvara turned to finish her thoughts: “We are always in a hurry, but the Lord is in no hurry to punish.” Two used this chance... When we were lying tied up, one of them, at my request, gave me water,” then she crossed herself, looking at the icons in the corner. - Remember him, Lord, in Your Kingdom for this cup of water. This guy began to tell me his life and was torn that he was already a lost man. And I, lying down, reassured him that as long as a person is alive, everything can be fixed. The thief on the cross repented and was the first to enter heaven. He listened and listened. And then he kissed my hand. When they untied us and were about to leave, I gave him an icon as a souvenir...
Oddly enough, the mood of the victims (the doctor discovered a concussion in both of them) was optimistic: nothing, they say, with God’s help everything will be managed. Moreover, they explained the invasion in no other way than:
- This is all due to our sins.
When asked where these guys are from, they answered unequivocally:
“It was Dito who brought them.”
“Poor, poor, how confused his enemy was that he would do such a thing,” said Elena. – How important, however, was his stay here and this, the first post in his life, for his soul. That's why the enemy rose up like that.

Soon neighbors and familiar shepherds from all over the area began to gather. They groaned, were indignant, and some, not experienced in religious subtleties, even cursed. Everyone agreed on one thing: we must report it to the police!
Elena tried as best she could to keep everyone from judging her and flatly refused to write a statement, declaring:
“I have given everything into the hands of God, let the Lord Himself judge.”
Some offered to bring a hunting rifle, others - to get lemons without charges if the “guests” appeared again. Both were categorically rejected:
- How can I bring weapons into the house when there are icons there?
Left alone, without guests, Varvara once again tried to influence Elena in her usual unceremonious manner, but heard a shocking confession:
“But I knew in advance that robbers would come to us.”
- Wha-o-o?
“I prayed that the Lord would give me some kind of sign that He wanted us to stay here.” And so he consecrated this place with our blood.
And seeing how Varvara’s eyes widened, she added:
“Just please, don’t talk to anyone, otherwise you’re like a free radio for all of Tbilisi.”
Gradually the excitement subsided, and everything returned to normal.
This event, of course, had its echo in the church. The general conclusion after sympathy and indignation was this:
“They need to leave such a remote place.”
Only one elderly singer responded differently:
- Everything is God’s will. Maybe they begged one of their ancestors from there,” she waved her hand down, “so the enemy took up arms against them through these unfortunates.” I've already had this happen. Out of the blue, a drug addict beat me up – and then I couldn’t get up for a month. I live in an ordinary house, not on a mountain like them. And only then did the Lord reveal the reason. Thank God for everything!
Father Filaret reacted to the attack as follows:
- There is no need to go anywhere. All the saints were beaten. And everything will get better with health.
A month later, Dito, having lost the remnants of fear and conscience, broke into Katya’s shack three times in broad daylight and carried out whatever came to hand.

Katya was also in despair because the police did not even want to accept a statement from her. There was no question of protection.
Having learned all this, Father Filaret, usually very temperate and meek, spoke out:
- He needs to be imprisoned. This is no good at all.
But he did not explain how to do this.
Through his prayers, retribution appeared naturally a week later in the person of law student Gela. This two-meter guy climbed to the top of the mountain to Elena and knocked on the gate:
– Is it true that you were attacked?
He was told the details of the new continuation that happened to Katya. Gela immediately armed himself with her address, a group card made for the Triumph of Orthodoxy, where Dito was also, and went to the other end of the city to Katya for more information.

Three days later, Gela grabbed Dito right on the subway and took him to the officer on duty at the department.
Two months later, the court sentenced Dito to "imprisonment for a period of five years." (As it turned out then, Dito already had a criminal record, which even Katya did not know about.)
In the summer of 1999, another “surprise”: the prosecutor climbs the mountain, puffing and sweating out of habit (his black Volga did not cope with the steep climb and remained at the foot) and asks Elena to come to a confrontation:
– We have information that a year ago you were attacked. The criminals were detained. You must help the investigation.
It turns out that when they were caught in yet another robbery and forced to write statements, one of them said:
“A lot of things happened, but my conscience torments me most of all for Elena,” and he described the whole incident in detail and gave the address.
After long refusals in the form of “I have no complaints against them, I forgave them everything,” Elena still had to go to prison for identification.
She returned from there in shock.
- This is real hell. There are walls covered in blood at the level of a human being.
– Did you recognize anyone? – Varvara asked, appreciating well-deserved retribution in any detective.
– One – yes. He has changed a lot, lost 15 kilograms. But I still said that I didn’t recognize anyone. It's enough for him that he's there.
- And the rest?
“Two are still wanted, and the third, the one who kissed my hands, was killed during a showdown six months ago. Recently I prayed for him and felt that he was no longer alive. And it was so easy in my heart, I didn’t feel any heaviness. Apparently, the Lord accepted his repentance...
Varvara listened to all this and thought that she would probably never understand the unpredictable Elena. And yet, how lucky she is that such a person lives nearby, just two hours away, but most importantly - in the same city.

OPEN SKIES

“When all the people were baptized, and Jesus, having been baptized, prayed, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on Him in bodily form like a dove, and there was a voice from heaven, saying: You are My beloved Son; I am well pleased with You!” (Luke 3:21-22).
- Where have you been? A real miracle happened here,” my neighbor greeted me with these words at Epiphany and began to tell me the story.
- In the morning, that means I’m standing, ironing and half-listening to TV, the Moscow channel. Suddenly the presenter says: “Today the Orthodox Church celebrates the feast of Epiphany and the consecration of water will take place in all churches. According to legend, on this day the heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends on the water and all the water is sanctified.”
Oh, I think they won’t come up with anything! - and I stroke myself further. And the presenter continues: “They used to believe that if someone sees the open heavens and has time to say their wish, then it will certainly come true. Attention, look at the sky. Now, any minute now, the heavens should open, and only after that the priests will begin the blessing of water.” I threw the iron, went to the window and saw: a sparkling golden line appeared in the sky from edge to edge, as if an airplane had flown by. I'll quickly call the children. “Come,” I shout, “here, look what’s happening.” They came running. “Come on,” I say, “make a wish.”
And then this line itself began to open wider and wider, as if Someone was stretching it with his hands. And from somewhere completely above, an extraordinary golden light began to flow. Indescribable beauty. Here my daughter screams at the top of her lungs: “I want Barbie! I want three new Barbies!”
"Stupid! - I say. “Isn’t it enough that you have this rubbish lying around?” Ask for something you need!”
And I myself get nervous, looking at this beauty. Why make a wish? - Think. Everything material gets into your head. Bed linen seems to be necessary. There’s such a moment - and suddenly there’s underwear. This doesn't count, I think. The work is normal. Not the same again. There is nothing in this life except work. I just can't concentrate. And here, right next to my ear, my daughter is screaming about Barbie. I almost spanked her right there: “Don’t pollute the airwaves with nonsense, I say.”
Then this opening in the sky began to narrow, becoming narrower and narrower. Oh, I think, wait, I didn’t really have time to wish for anything.” But everything in the sky had already closed, turned back into a stripe, as in the beginning, then this stripe disappeared, as if it had never existed. All this happened quickly. It lasted about ten minutes. My son later told me: “I should have asked for my health.” “And it’s true,” I say, “the most necessary things will always jump out of your head.” You ask your people there, in the church, if anyone has seen this and what it obliges the three of us to do. And find out exactly when the next Baptism is, so that I can prepare in advance and not miss this matter.

+ + +
“They are there in the church” they answered as if by agreement:
- It is a well-known fact that the heavens open at Epiphany. But the Lord did not deign to see us. And as you will see, when at ten o’clock there is always a service at this time and you have to be in church.
- And those who saw it, what should they do?
- The mercy of God... Now is the time, the Lord is calling everyone to church for repentance.

+ + +
As for the fulfillment of wishes, in the same year they gave Tamriko three Barbies at once different people. Now she has grown up and no longer plays with dolls. What her older brother wished for remained a secret.
As for their mother, a year later she had rush job, there was no time to look at the sky.
Happened in 1995
Recorded December 15, 1999

ABOUT THE POWER OF THE CROSS

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved the power of God” (1 Cor. 1:18).
“Recently, such a story happened to me, if someone had told me, I wouldn’t have believed it,” one of our parishioners tells me when we meet. - You know, I visit an old lady from time to time. This is the mother of my classmates. Both of her sons, twins, died of starvation several years ago. Both were unmarried, so their mother was left completely alone. In order to somehow live on her own, she signed her three-room apartment over to her neighbors so that she could be looked after and fed. They, of course, don’t work too hard, but they still provide some food. And of course, they can’t wait to bury her.
They really don't like me visiting her. They know that she is not alone. I once told this whole situation to my confessor. And he says: “Be careful, otherwise they will kill you too.” He just doesn't say anything. I was surprised, of course, but I didn’t take it as a warning either.
So, I come to this old lady for some religious holiday. She took out a bottle of wine from somewhere. “Come on,” he says, “let’s remember my guys.” Well, of course, I never refuse wine. “Let’s go,” I say. And for some reason I didn’t like this bottle. I took her and baptized her according to all the rules. And what do you think - the wine has changed color! Before our eyes! It turned some kind of muddy red.
“Where,” I say, “did you get this bottle?”
“The neighbors,” he answers, “they gave it a long time ago.” There was somehow no chance to open everything.
We never found out what kind of wine it was, but we didn’t drink it either. God saves man, who save himself.
I later told this incident to my confessor. But he takes such things for granted. “It’s good that I crossed you!” - speaks.
This happened in 1998.

ABOUT COMMUNION

My brother was told this incident twice by completely different people: one on the bus, the other at work. So I think this is true. IN general outline the meaning was this:
During this Great Lent, Communion was celebrated in the Kalveti Church. People take turns
approached the Chalice. Suddenly a girl of about five began to laugh. This attracted attention, and the mother was asked to take the child out into the yard. In the yard, a child began to cry and said that during Communion Royal Doors a pigeon was sitting. When the priest brought the spoon with the Holy Gifts to the mouth of the next communicant, the dove flew up to some and itself put a particle into the family, and from some it carried it upward in its beak, that is, it did not allow them to receive communion. This picture made the little girl laugh.
Of course, no one physically saw this dove. The sight of the invisible was given only
alone, I thought, pure in heart.
Lent 2002

UNGIVEN MONEY

The day on which you did not give alms was lost for eternity
I am a greedy person and at the same time not an atheist, that is, I know that I have to give an answer to the Creator for every action I take. I also know that “you cannot serve God and mammon” (Matthew 6:24). But greed does not become less from such knowledge, it is only covered with plausible pretexts.
Once on a trolleybus, an idea came to me: not to pay ten tetri to the driver, but to give it to some beggar. I leave the back door and walk, looking out for someone in need. A middle-aged man with a hat is standing. “This one is saving for a bottle,” I think. Then I see a woman with a child. “This one, I think, works for the mafia, as they recently wrote in the Komsomol.” Next, I see the grandmother bent over with a shaking hand. “It’s a pity, I think, but suddenly there’s someone worse ahead than her.” I go into the subway onto the escalator. I look, thinking, into my “wallet” - a plastic bag with change - and take it and burst! Everything that was in it - a chest of small change - fell down the escalator, you can’t collect it. Neither for me nor for the beggars. It's all greed.
Recorded March 7, 2000

BOOMERANG

“Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, shaken together, pressed, and running over, will be poured into your bosom; For with the same measure you use, it will be measured back to you.”
(Luke 6:38).
Meeting after a two-three week break.
- Where are you? How are you
- Mom went to the hospital. I looked after her. Pre-stroke condition.
- How is it? Still young for a stroke.
- Yes, yes. She herself says: “God punished.” A few months ago we borrowed one hundred dollars from our neighbors with interest. And then they asked for theirs back. Mom went, gave the money and, approaching their house, wished: “May this money go to you for medicine!” Soon she was tormented by the pressure. No matter what they did, they couldn’t shoot it down. I had to put her in the hospital. Medicines, doctors. I had to borrow again. In general, it took two hundred lari while we got her out of there.
It is surprising that exactly the same amount as she wished for others was spent on her treatment.
December 12, 2001

Even the saints were not free from the consequences of their own mistakes.
In the life of Rev. Pimen of Palestine (September 9 n.st.) you can read the following...
...He lived in the 6th century in a cave in the Ruwa desert.
One winter, the monk Agathonik came to him for instruction and stayed overnight in a nearby cave. In the morning he told the saint that he suffered greatly from the cold. The Monk Pimen replied that he was naked, but did not feel the cold, because a lion came to him, lay down next to him and warmed him. “However,” the ascetic added, “know that I will be eaten by beasts, because when I lived in the world and was a shepherd of sheep, a man passed by my flock; My dogs rushed at him and tore him to pieces. I could have saved him, but I didn't. It was revealed to me that I myself would die such a death.”
And so it happened: three years later it became known that the holy hermit Pimen of Palestine was torn to pieces by wild beasts.
October 9, 2005.

Today's meeting was an addition to this topic.
...The conversation revolved around and around paid childbirth.
“...There should be at least one free hospital in the city,” the husband argued to his wife (he had recently returned to his homeland from Russia).
“No, you understand, there are no free ones,” his pregnant wife explained to him. - This incident happened two years ago. One taxi driver, a Kurd, saw a boy bleeding on the street and brought him to the 9th hospital. They didn't even want to accept him. The nurses are running around, groaning and doing nothing. The doctor doesn’t even think about approaching. What, he says, is the point of having an operation? What if he dies, who will pay me then? And he sits in his office and doesn’t come down.
- What, the sisters couldn’t stop the bleeding themselves? - the husband chuckled, without looking up from the blue screen.
“So they couldn’t,” the narrator continues. “Then the Kurd took off the gold chain with the cross and said: “Are you people or who? There you are! Let the surgeon come!
While the doctor came down, the boy died from loss of blood. When the doctor bent down and took a closer look, he recognized his own son...
“It happens,” the viewer shrugged.

CAT
“Let every breath praise the Lord” (Ps. 150:6).
A one-legged shoemaker, Uncle Alexander, lives in our yard. Every day he sits and hammers in his closet. One day we started talking about animals. More precisely, they watch enough of these videos to see how cruel children are growing up now, and then they torture cats and dogs. And why they torture them - they themselves don’t know.
“...The worst thing is that you will have to answer for this later,” Uncle Sasha continued my thought, without stopping his work. - And then what kind of animals God strictly asks, is it me you care about? own experience I can tell. I lost my leg because of a cat.
- Like this?
“Yes, that’s it,” and said the following. - I was left without a mother early. Grew up with my aunt. She had a cow. Thanks to this cow we lived. Every day they made matsoni and sold it to neighbors. They got by somehow. Once a neighbor's cat got into the habit of licking matsoni. My aunt will prepare, for example, ten jars, cover them with paper lids to prevent dust from settling, and go out for a minute. And the cat is right there. And let's act. It would be nice if she ruined one jar, but no, she licked the tops of everyone. And then who will you sell this matsoni to? The loss (loss - author) is complete, and that’s all. I began to guard this cat. For a long time I was unable to catch her. The cat seemed to sense that my goal was to catch her. And then one day I managed to close the window and door when she jumped into the room, and began to catch her. It took me half an hour to catch the dead ones. He went absolutely berserk. And when he caught it, he hung it from a tree by hind legs and beat him to death with a belt. As I remember now, the cat swayed from side to side and howled wildly.
Then the war began. I was 18 and was immediately drafted. Got to the front line. In the first battle my legs were riddled with holes. There are seven bullets in the right, two in the left. Even though I was an atheist then (we were raised that way), for some reason at that very moment I immediately understood what kind of cat I was. Immediately, somehow this whole picture popped up in my head. Right leg I was amputated and sent home on disability. Maybe some people will think it’s cruel to be left with one leg at the age of 18 because of a cat. Yes, apparently God has his own scales.
Recorded August 15, 1999

CAUSES OF INFERTILITY

“This is the heritage of the Lord: children; the reward from Him is the fruit of the womb” (Ps. 126:3).
I heard the first story on this topic in 1994. I don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter what caused it. I am bringing it from the place I remember.
-...How important it is to be able to forgive. It is not without reason that one of the petitions in the “Our Father” is formulated exactly like this: “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” A striking example- this is a story with my neighbor. A believing girl, she got married at the age of 29. Three years pass and there are no children. I calmed her down and consoled her as best I could. Theoretically, she should have no obstacles to childbearing: both are physically healthy, both are more or less believers, got married, and fast if possible. I began to pray for them, and somehow it was revealed to me during prayer that the reason was her husband. He has some very strong unforgiven grudge. I told my neighbor about this, and she, in turn, told her husband. He began to remember, and it turned out that he could not forgive his father, who had long ago left his wife and him, little, to the mercy of fate. M. is a thinking guy, after thinking about it, he agreed that until he forgives his father, the Lord will not allow him to become a father himself. Apparently something happened in his soul. inner work. Together with his wife, he went to Father Elizbar and confessed. And soon my neighbor felt signs of pregnancy. Five years have passed since then. They already have two children,” summed up the narrator of this story...
The second story was told by another person in the winter of 2000.
- My friend and I got married almost simultaneously, eleven years ago. She often came to me and from time to time asked, for some reason worried: “Are you pregnant yet?” I wasn’t particularly nervous and soon, five months after the wedding, I felt the first signs that I was pregnant. A boy was born. Then, two years later, a girl. And my friend didn’t have children for five years. She was terribly worried. Then she had a child. Then she told me what she had been silent about for so long. It turns out that during their honeymoon, she and her husband were in Leningrad. My friend specifically went into the church there and lit a candle in front of the icon Mother of God and asked mentally: at least not to get pregnant now. She believed that during the trip, moving from hotel to hotel, this would cause unnecessary problems.
When her wish continued to come true in Tbilisi, she was very scared and did not immediately understand what was happening. Four years later, she had to specially go to Leningrad, look for that very church and ask in front of the same icon for the birth of a child. Only after that did she become pregnant,” the narrator finished.

My memory, as a continuation of this topic, resurrected a long-forgotten episode of 1994.
...At the school, an elderly cashier distributed salaries to employees. The line was small - about five teachers.
- How is your grandson doing? - they asked the cashier.
- Thank you, it’s growing. God bless! - she answered. “Finally we have waited.” After all, my daughter-in-law couldn’t get pregnant for four years. One of their friends suggested they get married. Mine did just that, went to church on Mtatsminda. And what do you think? On the tenth day, my daughter-in-law felt that she was pregnant. After the boy was born, my son went to this church and began to serve there either as a bell-ringer or as a psalm-reader. That's it free time spends there. And our whole family started going there. Although it’s far from us and we have to climb up the mountain... - and the cashier again delved into the payroll.
Only a few years later, looking through the Lives of the Saints, the reason for choosing this particular church became clear to me. Its founder, the Venerable David of Gareji, is usually prayed for the gift of children.
Recorded March 8, 2000

PRAYER BY AGREEMENT

“Truly I also tell you that if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven” (Matthew 18:19).
An unprepossessing house in Nakhalovka (old district of Tbilisi). A garden with an always open gate. Nearby, someone says in an unsteady voice: “A gang from Rostov has arrived in Odessa to do gangster business...” Badridjans are roasting on the tiles in the shade.
“You know, I got pregnant,” Lida tells me, putting a new batch on the sizzling frying pan. - I'll have to have an abortion.
- Maybe not? You will give birth to a second one.
- Sergei is freaking out, he doesn’t want to. “Why do I need this child? - speaks. “I’m still young.” And where to give birth? He either has a job or doesn’t. You see, there is nowhere to live. This one kennel is three by four meters. This bro of his, really lacking in evil, broke into our door with an ax again yesterday. I'm all on edge. You don’t know how to raise this kid. Just like my father. It’s not even two years yet and he’s already swearing. And I still can’t give birth after my first cesarean section.
- Yes, but since God sends a child, there will be both an opportunity and a place where to raise him. Everything will be managed.
- What can be done? Problem on problem. As if I want to. There's simply no way out. I'll go negotiate tomorrow. And don't tell me anything about God. Without you I know that it is a sin.
- Maybe this is the child you will miss later.
- Oh, stop it, please. Nerves are not iron. Mine starts to freak out when he gets drunk, so everything flies around here. Do you hear, dad over there is giving away his next concert. Go deal with drunks. It's in their blood. Explain to them what is a sin and what is not.
We separated, leaving the problem to itself.
It is a rare blessing in our time to know a spiritually literate person from whom you can get an answer to a question or an explanation. difficult situation. And so I go to my sister in Christ precisely for this purpose and tell the essence of the matter. The more she listens, the more her eyes fill with empathy.
- God! - is baptized into the image of the Savior. - Stop her! Save this life! - then turns to me. - This abortion should under no circumstances be allowed. After all, she will never forgive herself for this later,” her voice rings. - Tell her that when spouses destroy their children like this, their marriage dies spiritually. And the matter ends in divorce. Tell her my story. About my abortions and how I had to pay.
- Can i? Is it convenient?
- It's not a matter of embarrassment. If this keeps her from sin, then it will at least somehow cover up my failures. I have to pray for this for the rest of my life.
- All this will be useless. She has already decided everything. And the period after cesarean is very short - one and a half years.
- So what? I know several women who gave birth by Caesarean every year - and everything was fine. You know, don’t waste time, call all of our people and let’s all read a prayer together at nine in the morning by agreement, so that the Lord will take them away from this murder. After all, this child already exists and feels everything, he’s just not visible yet. And here’s the money for you, give it to the Liturgy tomorrow. I believe that the Lord will work a miracle. What is needed here is simply our common prayer.
I'm in a hurry to leave. A day passes, then another. The forewarned, four or five of them, read a prayer by agreement for a person they do not know, knowing only that they are all asking at the same time, each at home.
A week has passed, and I am again in the yard with an unlocked gate. In the annex you can hear someone arguing with unprintable expressions. Lida comes out. I look, everything is glowing.
“Well, finally,” he hugs me. - I’ll tell you the news, now you’ll be happier than me... I’ll leave you!
- Wow! And how did you decide?
“After you left, I thought for a long time, saying to myself: “Lord, do something.”
Then Sergei and I went to the doctor, and we already got the money. And there is a poster that covers the entire wall, as if a child were writing: “Mom, don’t kill me.” I cried and showed it to my husband: “Look,” I said, “I have no strength.” Well, of course, he said: “Screw you...” And the doctor who was waiting for us for the operation suddenly started talking to mine, explaining that maybe we wouldn’t have any more children at all, and persuaded us to leave. Sergei somehow became quiet and agreed... Now he says: “I want a girl.”
Several months passed after this conversation, and a whole series of miracles occurred. Exhausted from constant drinking and partying in the yard, Lida’s sister invited her to give birth to her place in Russia. In winter, when painters are off season, Sergei got money for the trip and sent his wife by plane. She got to Ivanov normally. She told me later how completely strangers helped along the way. The birth went well. And one morning, while reading the already familiar “by agreement,” I felt inside: “I don’t need to read anymore. She and the children are already at home.” I'm running to find out - and it's true.
- Congratulate me! - Lida shouts to me. - I have a girl. How did you know that I had arrived? I didn't call. .

I have seen miracles from prayer by agreement more than once. I will write what happened right before my eyes.

Winter. The two of us enter the hotly heated house. Behind the partition, a goat moos and strains from an old cot.

Oh, how good it is that you came, but here my goat has been suffering for 5 hours - she can’t give birth - the owner meets us.

Let's read it by agreement now.

Without undressing, we read, turning to the icons:

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Thou hast declared with Thy most pure lips: Amen I say unto you, For if there be two from you, the earth shall take counsel from every thing that whatsoever it asketh, it shall be done unto it from My Father which is in heaven: wherefore there are two or three gathered in My name, I am in the midst of them.

Thy words are immutable, O Lord, Thy mercy is unconditional and Thy love for mankind has no end. For this reason, we pray to Thee: grant to us Thy servants (here we give our names) who have agreed to ask Thee (“help Thy creation to give birth”), the fulfillment of our request. But not as we want, but as You want. Thy will be done forever. Amen. - sounds in chorus.

The baby goat that was born immediately echoes this.

Writer

“The two of us were walking along a country road. Not a soul around. Suddenly, at an intersection, we see a black royal dane flying at us at full speed, choking with barking. The owner is not visible. Apparently he let the dog run, and he himself is sitting somewhere in the shade. Everything inside me sank. There is no point in running, there is nowhere to hide.
“Don’t be afraid,” my companion told me and crossed the dog, which was already three meters from us, “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit!” Stop!
The dog stood rooted to the spot and fell silent.”

Similar cases are recorded and published by Maria Sarajishvili, a popular author whose stories can be found on many Orthodox resources. She says little about herself, preferring to focus on the stories she has collected.

Maria Sarajishvili worked as a process engineer, but after the crisis she began writing stories on an Orthodox theme

Maria Sarajishvili lives in Tbilisi, tutors, and in her free time writes stories about life - with religious morality. But it was not always so. During the Soviet years, she was a sought-after industrial engineer. But after economic crisis Neither experience nor St. Petersburg education helped.

Pavlova Nina

Soviet and Russian writer achieved the publication of Maria's first book

Maria Sarajishvili did not find a job in her specialty. But it gained many readers not only in Georgia, but also abroad - for example, in Russia.

The publication of Maria Sarajishvili’s first book was achieved by the writer Nina Pavlova, who liked her stories.

Maria Sarajishvili's books are sold in Orthodox churches, they are also available on the Internet, on the sites:

"Pravmir"

"Pravoslavie.ru"

"ABC of Faith"

Her most famous books:

"Open Skies (True Stories)"

"Once Upon a Time in Georgia"

"Curious Barabara. Is loyalty an old-fashioned word?

Maria Sarajishvili writes about our contemporaries.

They face difficulties that are vital for each of us: disagreements in the family, indifference, conflicts with loved ones.

Maria Sarajishvili's stories about people and for people, they strengthen faith

Maria Sarajishvili does not try to idealize her heroes. On the contrary, she prefers to write about those who are still in a spiritual search, trying to find themselves and their place in life.

This is not necessarily an optimistic path. On the contrary, there is always a risk of falling and making a mistake. Human movement in this is similar to walking on a tightrope, where it is important to maintain a balance between different areas life, find inner harmony.

There are no small things in life. And they play big role in the works of Maria Sarajishvili. On the one hand, a small thing is something that can distract from duty and sincere values, and on the other hand, there is God in every little thing. So in life you need to take everything seriously.

But this is not “heavy” prose. On the contrary, it is understandable to everyone. And the situations that are described in them are quite trivial at first glance. Men are in no hurry to start a family, girls are worried about the passing years, adults do not understand children. It sounds simple, ordinary. But behind this routine there is a deep tragedy of life.

Writer

“Tonya invested all of herself in Olezhik, since childhood she told him the lives of the saints at night, took him to receive communion, although in Brezhnev’s time few people did this, she tried to ensure that her son grew up as a believer, like all of Tonya’s ancestors, despite all the storms and hardships of the wars and revolutions. Oleg for a long time he lived like that, but then, having married an unbeliever, he gradually left the Church, and now worse than that- became an ardent atheist. The Internet has done its dirty work. There was too much information about something that Tonya could not explain or argue with reason. Scary. What if the Lord takes him away in unbelief? Then he will perish for eternity. This means that Tonya suffered and strained her strength all her lonely life in vain. All that remained was to pray and trust in the mercy of God. But this mercy did not come and did not come, plunging Tonya into great despondency with its delay.” ("An Answered Prayer")

But this does not mean that Maria Sarajishvili’s works are designed in dark colors. On the contrary, they are filled with hope and positivity. Each of us always has freedom of choice and Someone in Heaven who is always ready to help.

The stories of Maria Sarajishvili have psychotherapeutic power. You can get support from them, they charge you with optimism and strengthen your faith in the best. This is a kind of medicine - and not bitter. You can read these books lightly and with pleasure. But with all this, there is always a main theme in the background - the relationship between God and man.

Maria Sarajishvili has a collection of stories about the churching of the restless journalist Varvara

A collection of stories about the churching of a girl with a Soviet past.

"Curious Barabara. Is loyalty an old-fashioned word? is a collection of stories. Its main character's name is Varvara. And, apparently, this is the same curious Varvara from the proverb, whose nose was torn off at the market. By at least, it’s hard for her to stay away from events. It’s unbearable that something is happening somewhere without her. How can you not stick your nose somewhere? No, that's impossible.

Gossip is Varvara's passion. And she mastered many techniques for getting them. The author even calls it “free radio Tbilisi.” Unceremoniousness, obsessiveness, a tendency to put on airs and be smart - the portrait is quite recognizable. Each of us has a couple of such “Barbarians” surrounded by us. The picture is complemented by Varvara’s profession - a journalist.

What interesting things can you tell about such a character? Maria Sarajishvili decides to set her on the path to church. It’s scary to imagine what difficulties the Tbilisi journalist will have to go through ahead.

The counterweight to Varvara and her moral guide in this collection is Elena, reasonable, fair and very patient. Orthodox woman. She helps many people around her change for the better. In a strange way, the most different personalities. And she is really able to understand everyone.

Writer

“What are the typical temptations for a priest in everyday life? – Varvara betrayed another trick.

One of the most powerful is confession. There is so much to hear and take through that it is impossible to remain indifferent. Afterwards you walk around like you're drunk. It’s good if a spiritually prepared person comes to confession. And if not? It happens that a woman comes up to me, hesitates, suffers, but cannot say. There are many things about which the Apostle Paul said: “It is shameful to say.” I too am tormented by her silence. You pull words out of her with pincers, and at the same time the enemy instills false shame. And she leaves unsatisfied, and my soul is heavy. And vice versa, how easy it is in the heart when a person, overcoming himself, pulls out of himself what oppresses him.”

Despite its apparent simplicity, there is a moral and spiritual message in this. Conversion is one of the most important Christian motives. And here it finds its expression in artistic prose.

Moreover, everything was done in moderation, without moralizing or boring moral conclusions. The reader is not stupid - he himself will be able to draw the necessary conclusion.

The works of Maria Sarajishvili have a national flavor, but are understandable to any reader

Although Maria Sarajishvili writes primarily about Georgia, the Russian reader will not feel like a “stranger” when reading. All types are recognizable and equally common in both Georgia and Russia. In the heroes of Maria Sarajishvili’s books, it is easy to discern someone who could very well be your neighbor, colleague or acquaintance.

Actually, Maria Sarajishvili does not set herself the task of writing a “Georgian” text with a pronounced national flavor. She has a different task - to write about Orthodoxy, faith, and the destinies of people.

Maria writes about Orthodoxy, faith, and the destinies of people

And the more people feel how the story resonates in their souls, the better the author has coped with his task. And yet, Maria Sarajishvili brings a certain cultural charge of her homeland into her works. Here you can read about the history, politics, morals, shrines, and national dishes of Georgia.

“The authors of the textbook, in order to save teachers from such questions, inserted 2-3 short explanatory texts about the history and geography of Russia. Modernity was presented with the masterpiece “Culture Shock”. In this text, the compilers explained to children point by point what gifts can be given to Russians, Muslims and Japanese, and which ones should never be given. Special attention is devoted to greetings - and here there is a warning: “You cannot kiss a resident of Russia when meeting, you can only when parting!” Children, reading this, usually require additional explanations, since with us it’s the other way around.”

Maria Sarajishvili retells real stories of people

Maria Sarajishvili does not hide the fact that she uses real-life material for her texts. Her stories are not fictional, but real. But this does not turn them into a dry report or retelling. You can feel the author behind the text. And the author puts the right emphasis on the main ideas of the work, sees a guiding hand behind seemingly everyday situations.

The author does not present the story as it is, but tries to look into the soul of the characters and analyze what this or that person is experiencing. Her characters doubt, hesitate, fall into despair. But there is a place in the works for real miracles - in general, life in all its manifestations.

Mary's books are based on life - this makes them understandable to anyone

Real life material makes history more relatable and understandable to every person. Of course, each of us has unique experiences, but people are able to empathize with each other. It’s easy to put yourself in the place of Maria Sarajishvili’s heroes.

Maria Sarajishvili shows how important it is to show tolerance towards people, overcome bad habits, and treat everything judiciously. And here it is based not just on fantasy, but on real human experience. Her books are an excellent example of how one should and should not act in certain life situations.