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Writer's pictureSubdeacon Nektarios, M.A.

Elder Savvas of Kapsala (1913–15 Oct 1991): Spiritually Profitable Historical Narratives, Wondrous Events, and Notes from the Course of His Life

Compiled by Elder Alypios of Kapsala

Translated from the original Greek edition published by Orthodox Kypseli, Thessaloniki, 2023

 

"O Theotokos, the hope of all Christians, protect, guard, and preserve those who place their hope in thee." "When you say, 'My Panagia,' you find relief."

- Elder Savvas

 

From the Narratives of Elder Savvas


When I was a child, I broke my arm. My widowed mother put me on a donkey and took me to the neighboring village to a practical doctor who set it in a cast. Along the way, she asked me:


"Did you perhaps commit some sin, and God allowed this to happen?"

"No, Mother!"

"Did you steal? Did you lie? Think about it."

"No, Mama!"

"Did you perhaps see an elderly person, blind or disabled, and make fun of them? Is that why this happened to you?"

With such Christian upbringing, she raised us.

Another time, I sat cross-legged. My older brother gave me a light slap on the face and said:

"Lower your leg! Sitting like that in front of Grandpa and Mother is like saying, 'I have no need for God.'"


***


My father died young. We were left as six orphaned children. During the time of the Asia Minor Catastrophe, my two eldest siblings were in the war—difficult times. When I went into the army, I became gravely ill with typhoid fever and pneumonia. The fever wouldn’t subside, and I remained in the hospital for several months, in isolation. Everyone said, “He’s going to die.” They allowed my mother to stay with me. One night, I saw in my sleep that I was holding an icon of the Theotokos.


My mother heard me and said, “It’s because of the fever... he’s delirious.” The next day, the fever subsided, I was well, and the doctors were astonished... My mother was by my side—may the Lord grant her rest—she always struggled in this life for what is good. God healed me! The Most Holy Theotokos had another purpose for me, and to lead me to repentance, she granted me life. After my military service, I went to the Monastery of Saint George (Epanosifis). During the night, at the time of Orthros, it was so moving that it seemed to me as if God Himself was there and the monks were conversing with Him.


A thought came to me: this is the best life, and so I made the decision to become a monk.

When I told this to my mother, she said to me:


"My child, why don't you stay with the others, get married, and live as they do?"

"No, Mother, I have made my decision..."

"If that’s what you want, then go, and you have my blessing..." "May God grant her rest."

I believe I never saddened her. She always gave me her blessing, and her blessing covers me to this day. Receive the blessings of your parents, and the hand of God will be with you.


***


I left and went to the Monastery of Longovarda (of the Life-Giving Spring) on Paros. When I arrived, what a surprise! Above the monastery gate, the Platytera of the Heavens, the Theotokos, with open arms, welcomed everyone... I became an assistant to Fr. Pangratios in the obedience of tending the garden. He had great love for the Theotokos; whenever he spoke her name, he would weep... I became a monk, receiving the tonsure with the name Savvas. Then the war broke out (1940), and there was a mobilization. Nine of us monks left to serve our homeland.


I asked Elder Philotheos Zervakos, the abbot:


"I was an artillery soldier; now I will be on the front line again, firing at targets. Can I do this as a monk?"

"What are you saying, my father? We are defending ourselves. You will fight as needed. The Italians and Germans will come and violate your mother, your sister..."

We arrived in Piraeus and then Thessaloniki. I removed my monastic habit, shaved, dressed in military uniform, and comforted myself by saying:

"The good life makes the monk. Now we go for Faith and Homeland."

Thus, I found peace...


***


At the camp, there were no windowpanes... Italian airplanes bombarded us, sirens wailed, destruction, ruins, the dead... devastation everywhere. One day, I saw an anti-aircraft operator shoot down two Italian planes—he was an excellent marksman. On the first day, I noticed in the barracks the dusty icon of Saint Demetrios and the cobweb-covered vigil lamp. I cleaned them and lit the lamp. Everyone was happy and gave me money for oil. “Friends,” I said to them, “let’s also buy an icon of the Theotokos...” They immediately agreed and collected 150 drachmas. I bought the icon of “Axion Estin.”


One afternoon, we went out to the city, somewhere near the White Tower. A soldier from Piraeus spotted a brothel and urged us to go. I shouted to him, "No," saying that we don’t know if we’ll return alive from the war... The others followed me, and we left... but he went and sinned with the prostitute. The next morning, an Italian bombshell—somehow—passed through the window and killed the one who had gone to the brothel the previous day.


They sent me to guard duty with anti-aircraft guns at the bridge of the Strymon River. In the spring of 1941, we were moving through the mountains toward Amyntaio and Kastoria. The movements of our company took place all night—difficulties, lack of food. The Asia Minor refugees and Pontians brought us food... I thank them. One day, we were transporting ammunition and the artillery guns. Near a village, three children, aged 10–15, were hoeing beans and singing hymns from the Akathist. How much joy I felt—they were like little angels. I hadn’t gone 50 meters away when German airplanes began bombing. It was terrifying! I saw it with my own eyes! A bomb fell next to the children but did not explode. It seemed to leap and fell to the lower terrace, where it created a large crater, with smoke... dirt... debris...


The children were unharmed! Behold the miracle of our Most Holy Theotokos! During the battle, at the moment I was sent to notify about ammunition, a shell had fallen into the trench—exactly in the spot where I had been. God saved me once again...! After the retreat, I went to Mount Athos to Elder Avimelech (at Little Saint Anne's). I stayed for about two months and heard many spiritually beneficial things. I became acquainted with the brotherhoods of the Danielaioi, Father Gerasimos the Hymnographer, and Elder Joseph the Cave-dweller. Elder Avimelech also had the holy relics of Saints Dionysios and Mitrophanes, which I venerated.


In the cave where the saints had practiced asceticism, their relics were fragrant... and he had transferred them to his cell. Today, I do not know where they are located. The life of Elder Avimelech was very ascetic; I could not endure it, and he told me to join the coenobitic life at the Monastery of Konstamonitou. When I went to Thessaloniki for medical reasons, I was captured by partisans and imprisoned in Litochoro. They held a gun to my head and threatened me. I was not afraid of them. "Listen," I told them, "I am more of a Greek and patriot than you, and I am not afraid of death. I am a monk and have served, fighting for my homeland..." They had decided to execute me as a spy. German airplanes came and bombed the dependency of Saint Dionysios, where I was being held. Nothing was left standing... but God saved me.


On foot, I made my way to the Monastery of Saint Dionysios on Mount Olympus. The few elderly monks there took me in and provided me shelter. At night, as I was reciting the Akathist Hymn to our Most Holy Theotokos, the Germans arrived and seized the priceless treasures of the monastery. We loaded the large icon of the church onto an animal, but shortly afterward, it fell, and a German soldier threw it aside. I picked it up—none of the Germans said anything to me—and carried it on my back all the way to Litochoro, where I handed it over to the first villager we encountered. The Germans planted dynamite, and the historic monastery of Saint Dionysios on Mount Olympus was blown up... a pile of ruins...! After a month and a half of imprisonment, I was released. Traveling on foot and spending nights sometimes in monasteries and other times in the homes of Christians, I eventually reached Paros and my monastery... but I did not find peace and left. I went to the Monastery of Saint Meletios on Mount Kithairon in Attica, where I stayed for eight years.


Great is the grace of Saint Meletios. One day, as I was kneading bread, a young armed partisan came and began questioning me about the Church: “Where have you seen God?” I told him many things, as God enlightened me, but he kept arguing. Afterward, he left and, while at the chapel, he saw a dead butterfly. After confirming it was truly dead, he said, “God, if You exist, let it fly...” And oh, the miracle! The butterfly rose and flew away. He turned pale and came back to tell me what had happened. I glorified God and said, “My child, didn’t I tell you before that our God is real?”


They brought a demon-possessed girl from the village of Darimari. For a quarter of an hour, she foamed at the mouth and writhed on the tomb of Saint Meletios. Then she stood up, made the sign of the cross, and was well.


A layman who worked at the monastery, known for his anger, constantly cursed the monks, saying, “I’ll throw you out, and the dogs will devour you.” The Germans captured him and, after executing him not far from the monastery, threw his body and covered it with stones. A few days later, when we found him, dogs were eating his remains. A pitiable sight... In 1946, I went to Kavsokalyvia on Mount Athos to Agios Efstathios, to Elder Ananias, and stayed for a year and a half. As you walked the paths, you could hear the prayer being chanted by the ascetics:


"Rejoice, the Holy Mountain of Athos, rejoice. Rejoice, homeland of those who have no earthly homeland. Rejoice, the most fragrant garden of the Theotokos. Rejoice, the school of virtues and philosophy. Come to be enriched, for here lies a true wealth of wisdom, a great treasure from which only the devout gain benefit..."


(Hieromonk Hieronymos of Agiou Pavlou, 1894–1920)


The monasteries of Mount Athos had the beautiful custom of giving alms every Saturday at their representatives' quarters in Karyes to ascetics, hermits, the poor, and workers. They gave food, legumes, bread, olives, wine, and more. Oh, what a beautiful ideal for the soul of every person—to give alms. Oh, blessed LOVE, where is love now...? Pray that this custom, established by the holy founders, may return. I am certain that they are sorrowful because love has disappeared among us.


The Bishop of Attica dissolved the Monastery of Saint Meletios and converted it into a women’s monastery. I left, and after staying briefly at the Prophet Elias in Amfissa and the Monastery of Sagmata, I came to the Holy Monastery of Pantokrator on Mount Athos. For several years, I served as the guestmaster.


Later, I left and stayed at the cell of Saints Athanasios and Cyril, which belongs to the Holy Monastery of Gregoriou, in the Adein area, north of Karyes, a 40-minute walk from Karyes. It was the summer of 1976. When I first arrived, I found an old Russian icon of the Guardian Angel from the year 1903. Dusty as it was, I cleaned it and hung it on the door of the cell. "Holy Angel," I said, "this is your place; you will be my protector." That night, as I was praying the prayer rope and performing the service of Orthros, it felt as if I had fallen into a light sleep. I heard footsteps and someone censing, moving from the chapel to the rooms... Suddenly, the door opened on its own. I woke up and stood upright, and what did I see! Just as he was depicted in the icon—the very same angel, wearing a blue sticharion, holding a censer and a candle—entered the room and censed me. Then he disappeared. My soul was filled with joy!


In the morning, Fr. Nektarios, my neighbor, came, and I told him about it. He said to me: “Because you honored the angel by placing his icon on the door, he came and honored you by censing you. Do not doubt it; the demon cannot give such joy and peace. He only brings disturbance, fear, and turmoil to the soul.” In 1977, Fr. Gerasimos from the Koutloumousiou Skete gifted me a hand-painted icon of our Most Holy Theotokos. I placed it in a cabinet on the wall above my bed, standing upright on the shelf, until I could send it by mail to a family I knew. The floor was old. A plank broke, and as my foot fell into the gap, I struck my side. In pain, I struggled to carry water from the spring 50 meters away. I would heat a firebrick, and by applying it to the injured side, I found some relief. It was night, during the time of prayer, when I heard a knocking sound inside the cabinet—tick-tick—as though a hand was tapping on the door.


I was perplexed—what could it be? There was no cat, mouse, or squirrel that could get in... The place was sealed and built with stone walls. Yet some invisible hand continued to knock, a second and then a third time... I made the sign of the cross and opened it. The icon of the Theotokos, which had been upright, was now lying sideways on the shelf. I kissed it joyfully, and while chanting "Axion Estin," I placed it in the prayer stand of the chapel. From that moment, I felt no pain... I had been healed! After some time, a similar incident occurred. Another plank broke, and I injured my side again. I struggled on my own, enduring pain and hardship.


One night, in my sleep, I saw something like a sphere descending from the sky. It struck me right where I was in pain. It was a terrifying experience. I woke up feeling as though I was paralyzed. "Glory to God!" I exclaimed. I moved my arms and legs... I felt no pain. I leapt to my feet, giving thanks to God. Unbelievable—I was healed! As I was praying to Saint Athanasios and Saint Cyril, I felt a hand lovingly pat me on the back, and my soul was filled with joy. In the morning, I went to Bourazeri. I often went there and confessed to Elder Haralampos, who later became the abbot of the Holy Monastery of Dionysiou. When I recounted these events to Elder Haralampos, he was deeply moved, stood up, and kissed me on the head. Elder Savvas did not usually keep disciples, but in 1984, he made an exception and kept me, the unworthy Alypios.


He was 70 years old and suffered from heart failure and phlebitis. In 1986, the Holy Monastery of Pantokrator assigned me to the cell of Saint Nicholas and Saint Nicodemus the Hagiorite in Kapsala, where Saint Nicodemus had lived from 1794 to 1805 and wrote most of his works. When I first saw the church of Saint Nicholas, I was overwhelmed—it is indescribable how much joy I felt. My worldly name was Nicholas, and after six years, I had found my saint again. Opposite, there is the cell of Saint Theophilos the Myrrh-Gusher. I ran there and said joyfully, "Elder Phanourios, my name was Nicholas, and now, with my Elder, we have become your neighbors. My happiness is beyond words!" He replied, "I understand you..." and began to recount his story: "I was 15 years old when my parents sent me from Romania to Mount Athos. The last words of my father were these: 'My child, Vasile, we dedicate you to the Theotokos. Live with obedience and patience, that you may please God and that He may save us, your parents, through your holy life.'"


I lived for thirty years in the Romanian Skete of the Forerunner. Later, I decided to practice asceticism in Kapsala. The Holy Monastery of Pantokrator granted me this cell. When I saw the church for the first time, I noticed Saint Basil on the iconostasis. I asked the monastery superior, who had come with me, and he said, “Yes, the cell is dedicated to Saint Basil, but because the relic of Saint Theophilos is buried here, it is known as the Cell of Saint Theophilos.” In the early days, I worked to clean the spring, the garden, and the paths, shortening the services to make time. One night, I had a vision of a cypress tree near the church falling and destroying the dome. I thought to myself, "How will I repair this? What damage has occurred!" Then, at a distance of 30–40 meters from the path, I saw a bishop in hierarchical vestments and a monk. They looked like Saint Theophilos. Only the monk spoke to me sternly: “Do not neglect your monastic duties. We will take care of the cell.”


All-Holy Lord, Thou art all Love! Elder Paisios, who gave us this cell of Saint Nicholas, reposed blind. He used to wholeheartedly glorify the Lord and often said with tears: "All-Holy Lord, Thou art all love...!"


I remember, one time in 1986, Fr. Arsenios visited us and recounted the following: "...My sister fell gravely ill with cancer and was bedridden, suffering excruciating pain. When I saw her glorifying God and asking Him for even more pain, I was astonished and ashamed. For so many years as a monk, I cannot even endure a toothache, even though I hear in the Psalms: 'Give us help from trouble.' Saint John Chrysostom says: 'The most precious blessing for the body is health; however, when God permits illness and we endure it while glorifying Him, sins are forgiven. Illness is even more precious for the soul.'"


My sister passed away, and I prayed for the repose of her soul, feeling overwhelmed with joy—a sign of the joy she was experiencing in the happiness of Heaven. Some time later, I saw in my sleep that I was in a beautiful garden, full of flowers and plants, with wonderful fragrances. What majesty! I saw my sister dressed in white and youthful. Pointing with her finger, she said to me, "Nothing in this world is worth anything except to please God." I woke up filled with joy. These words were engraved in my soul. Later, when I suffered a hernia and was in pain, hesitating about undergoing surgery, one night in my sleep, my sister appeared again. With sternness, she said to me, "Why are you worrying? Apply oil from the lamp of the Theotokos, and you will be healed." I woke up and asked forgiveness from God for my lack of faith. I anointed myself with the oil and was healed. And the Elder, while crying, continued: "God sent my sister to me, a sinner, to tell me what I should do..."


I received a letter containing something remarkable: "I was an orphan without a father and a non-believer. As a teenager, I lived a life of debauchery and sin. I ended up spending several years in prison, where I repented. A year before my release, my mother committed suicide. I was left with no one. My former friends, the street gangs, were no longer a part of my life. I prayed for God to enlighten me—to either lead me to a Christian marriage or to become a monk. I met N., we got engaged, and soon after, we were married. I am sending you our photo so you may pray for us to live as God wills. My mother-in-law, Val., is 41 years old and uses a wheelchair. Her arms were amputated at the elbows, and her legs were amputated at the thighs. Yet now, she glorifies God and endures patiently. What had happened? When she was young, there was an argument with Christians about the existence of God. Val. said to them, 'I don’t believe God exists; if He cuts off my hand, then I will believe.' The conversation ended. A few days later, as she was traveling, the train derailed... It was a tragic accident with many casualties. My mother-in-law was gravely injured. The doctors amputated her arms and legs. From that event, she became a believer and now endures her disability with faith."...


***


A miracle from a story recounted by our neighbor, Fr. M. of Kapsala: "I was a sailor before my marriage. While I was alone in the room, I heard a sound like something tearing, and then there was an earthquake. In my hand, I found a small silver object—about the size of a postage stamp—depicting Saint Symeon the God-Receiver holding Jesus." I kissed the small icon again and again, thanking God, and realized that no one else had felt the earthquake—it happened only for me. I said nothing... who would believe me? I bought a chain and wore it constantly. Some time later, I was persuaded: “Efstathios, we know you live a Christian life and don’t sin at the ports. We want you to join us today for a walk in the city. We promise there will be no women involved...” I followed them. We went for coffee, had a drink, then another... I got drunk. We went to a bar, and in the end, I sinned with a prostitute. What grieved me most, when I came to my senses, was that I had sinned while wearing the icon. Suddenly, I inexplicably lost it, just as it had originally come from Heaven. I wept bitterly... I confessed my sin and begged for forgiveness every day. One night, as I was crying and beating my head, pleading with God to forgive me, I once again felt an earthquake and heard a noise. The lost icon appeared in my hand. With great joy and tears, I thanked the Lord. Years passed, and at another port, a similar event occurred... drunkenness and fornication.


After that, the icon disappeared forever. I have wept for it all my life. My back became injured, and I was in pain. I separated from my wife... we also had a son... and I became a monk at the Monastery of Saint Sabbas in Jerusalem. The doctors decided on surgery because I was at risk of becoming paralyzed. During Holy Week, I was helping clean the church, lifted something, and ended up bedridden for 22 days in pain. One night, during Orthros, I pleaded with Saint Sabbas, saying: “For ten years, I have been asking for patience from you. Now I am bedridden, cared for by a young monk, and the monastery needs him... what will happen?”


I saw that I was in the church, standing before the full-body, incorrupt holy relic of Saint Sabbas. I saw him come to life and hold me by the shoulders, pressing me downward. I held onto his hands and said, "Saint of God, I will not let you go unless you heal me." He blessed me, saying, "From now on, you are well." I woke up and ran to the church, making prostrations before the holy relic. I was healed! When I went to Voula Hospital, the doctors protested about my delay. X-rays were taken of my back, and when the head doctor saw them, he kept looking at them again and again, silently. He knew my condition very well... Raising his hands toward heaven, he cried out loudly, so that a crowd of people could hear him, as it was during visiting hours: "Great are You, my Christ! This is Your work and not ours. Take these X-rays, Father, return to your monastery, and pray for us."


***


A miracle of Archangel Michael that occurred in the 1960s to Fr. N., when, after thirty years, his Elder sent him to his village in Halkidiki. Some villagers looked at him with disdain. During the feast, at the time of the Divine Liturgy, Archangel Michael suddenly appeared in all his glory and said to Fr. N., "Do you know me?" The priest was astonished by his brilliance. The Archangel said, "You will see what will happen so they will no longer mock you." When the priest said, "Let us lift up our hearts (Ἄνω σχῶμεν)," he was lifted into the air, about one meter high. The congregation, seeing this, fell to their knees, exclaiming, "Our priest is in the air..." and so forth. When he said, "Let us give thanks to the Lord," he descended as if falling, and the sound of his feet hitting the ground was heard. The local newspaper reported the miracle, titling it: "Priest Raptured into the Air."


***


Elder Savvas wrote letters of protest to abbots, monks, and bishops concerning the heresy of Ecumenism. He wrote: "I consider it the duty of every Orthodox Christian to protest against those who hold papist and anti-Orthodox views, seeking union. We were born Orthodox, our parents baptized us Orthodox, we were raised Orthodox, and we wish to die Orthodox. How much longer will we tolerate this and remain silent?"


In a letter dated October 12, 1987, to Elder Theoklitos of Dionysiou, among other things, he writes: "I, too, come to cry out to you about the danger Orthodoxy is facing, and at the same time, Mount Athos, with the Patriarch's declaration that everyone is free to receive Communion from Catholics and vice versa. In this way, they have effectively 'sealed' the union—that is, the subjugation of Orthodoxy to the Pope. Terrible!... I believe your admonition to the powerful will be respected...


"Your voice will have an impact... If the Patriarch does not retract... the sacred icon of the Theotokos should not be taken to Athens... so that future generations will not curse us. The responsibility, Father, lies with you... for you have delivered thousands of homilies and written numerous articles. Otherwise, all your ink, paper, and effort will be in vain... I pray that the divine Fathers who sanctified Mount Athos will shield us from the storm of heretical doctrines."


To the abbot of a Holy Monastery on Mount Athos, he wrote:


"…If you do not change your course, you will soon turn the Holy Mountain into just a mountain, and you will bear the responsibility and the anathemas of the Holy Fathers. You tell us that we are outside the Church because we do not commemorate the Patriarch. We are outside the synod of the Phanariotes, Harkianakis, Iakovos... but within the Orthodox Church of the Synods, the Martyrs, and the Saints. I pray that you understand in this life, and not in the next, that you are wrong to commemorate the Papophiles who collaborate with the Pope of Rome and persecute the Orthodox who inhabit the kellia [small monastic cells]. I am informed that you did not allow a single Liturgy to be held in the Skete for Saint Mark of Ephesus. Shame. Is this how you honor the pillar of Orthodoxy? I pray that worthy successors of Hieromartyr Kosmas the Protos, will be found, because the other path leads to the 'bloated corpses at Lavra.' There is no middle ground.


- Elder Savvas An un-monastic monk April 21, 1991"


***


Greece! The chosen people because it has Orthodoxy. Unfortunately, those in power trample on Orthodoxy, and we are destined to face the punishment of the Jewish people who transgressed the Law. Greek people, wake up! Do not follow the Papophiles, for they are heretics. "If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land..." (Isaiah 1:19).

Clean Wednesday, 1989, G. S.


***


Elder Anatolios the Zealot went to the historic cell of "Axion Estin," where the chandelier, vigil lamps, and candles lit themselves. He used to come to our cell for the Divine Liturgy, walking barefoot. When the Germans came to Karyes in 1941, they arrested us, and my brother and I were sent to Germany, where we worked for three years in a labor camp. While we were imprisoned in Thessaloniki, there was also Antonios Nt., who had been convicted of murders and robberies in Macedonia.


He asked to confess. Fr. Leonidas, an elderly spiritual father, came to the prison, to the small chapel there, and said: "My child, you confess your sins, I listen, but God, who is invisibly present here, erases the sins." The confession lasted over three hours. At the end, he accompanied the spiritual father to the prison gate, and what did we see? Something great and wondrous! A divine light surrounded the one who had just confessed, and he appeared slightly lifted, as if he was not touching the ground. Dozens of prisoners witnessed this miracle! Great is the Mystery of confession.


***


I am copying from a letter the miracle of the great Mother of the Orthodox, the Theotokos: "My husband was an atheist, and we had a civil marriage. Our child was gravely ill. The doctors gave no hope. The child was dying in the intensive care unit of the hospital. My pain drove me to pray with tears to the Theotokos: 'Theotokos, Virgin Mother, you are the great Mother. You see my sorrow. I have no one else in this world… show me what to do… my child is dying.' Then, a woman’s voice was heard within me: 'Take your child home quickly, and a pious woman will tell you what you need to do.' It was incredible! I had the certainty that the voice was that of the Theotokos."


I immediately requested a discharge... There was an argument with the doctors... In the end, I signed, took my child in my arms, and descended in the elevator. The battle of thoughts was intense: "You shouldn’t have taken the child; it will die in your arms. There was hope back there..." But I kept thinking, "Yet the voice was so certain."


As I was leaving the hospital, a nurse stopped me and handed me a small note, saying: "A devout woman lives here, the mother of 15 children. She will tell you what you need to do." I was stunned, but I was filled with peace. She repeated the exact same words I had heard from the Theotokos. Taking a taxi, I returned home, left my gravely ill, dying child with my mother, and went to the address. In the small, humble room sat an elderly woman in front of a little table. As soon as she saw me, she exclaimed: "You have a civil marriage, and your child is unbaptized. How can God help you?" I burst into tears. She comforted me: "Baptize the child now, and I will pray... God will heal him." And that’s exactly what happened. Little Dimitrios was healed, with only a slight disability in his walking left—to remind us of the miracle of his healing!


***


Another Miracle of the [Panagia] Gorgoepikoos ["She Who is Quick to Hear"] ...In 1986, during the tragedy of Chernobyl, the authorities came and forced us to leave immediately because everything had been contaminated by radiation. With our truck, the whole family traveled 6,000 kilometers eastward over the course of a week. Shortly before arriving at the relatives’ home, I realized that the icon of the Theotokos, which I had taken with us when we left, was missing... What a calamity...! Inconsolable sorrow...!


I wept... and wept... Suddenly, I felt a warm sense of joy. I lifted my head and saw the icon of the Gorgoepikoos radiating a heavenly light. I was overwhelmed with joy... Then the icon ascended. When I arrived at the village, at the Church of the Transfiguration of Christ, I beheld the same icon of the Gorgoepikoos that I had seen along the way. This icon had been painted a hundred years ago on Mount Athos. During the persecutions from 1917 to 1988, the Christians had kept it hidden, and with the freedom brought by Perestroika, they rebuilt the church and placed the icons in it.


Glory to God for all things!

I wish you a blessed repentance.

Many greetings from Mount Athos.

 

"Elder, what is the most God-pleasing thought?"

"Love for God and for our fellow humans."

If only you could see the love that the Greek soldiers offered for their homeland in 1940. Today's Greeks do not know gratitude but instead indulge in self-indulgence and sensuality.

Brothers and sisters of Greece, come to your senses, so you do not witness worse than what the Germans did to us.

(Kalyve of Saint Nicholas, Kapsala)

 

I see my monk, Fr. Alypios, after his tonsure into the Great Schema. I thank the Lord and pray that He may grant him the grace to honor the schema of the Great Schema, so that he may appear at the Second Coming as an angel and intercede even for the unworthy Elder Savvas. Likewise, I thank all those who were present at the ceremony.


I rejoice because the Lord, despite my unworthiness, granted me the blessing to make a monk. I prayed for him: "May the Lord strengthen him and grant him wisdom and faith, so that he may please the Lord and fulfill his desire to be an example to all, to the glory of God, and to make me a prayer rope or two. May the Lord enlighten me to have a good end." - Elder Savvas, an un-monastic monk.

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