With the moms I talk daily. Simply because, being on duty in the temple, I often speak with women who comes with some personal trouble. And what women often a personal problem? Children, of course… Nov 25, in Russia – mother’s Day.
Photo: Tatiana Nikitina / rosphoto.com
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The Priest Andrey Mizyuk. Photo of Ivan Privalov / eparhia-saratov
Thought that girls who were born in 1998 when for the first time in Russia celebrated mother’s Day, already quite and are able to become mothers. Sinful, but about it I, to my shame, I know every year in fact. That is, in the day. Whether because the date is shifted, whether because not much of it and notice us. I can not judge. Although, of course, bursts of activity floral dots and other “chapterincomplete” is not there. Which is a pity. After all, the only holiday, which could subside any battles and disputes. The holiday when your heart is warmed. Memory and love.
But after a couple years, still trying wife and mother to congratulate. My wife my three boys and my mother, me and brother. This does not mean that I do them no more than to congratulate. Just try not to forget. I think every mom, in addition to this total, somewhere in there, at the end of November, still has a personal mother’s day, and sometimes more than one. Of course, it’s the birthday of each of us.
Not sure what I personally celebrate on this day. Well, Yes, I was born. The first date is. But I guess most have tried and experienced, and then experienced that day was my mom. That is the mother of each of us. Isn’t that right? In any case, if there is such a possibility, the birthday of the first phone call needs to be me beloved. It’s not me waiting for him. Yes. Mom. And very cool, and the glory of God, and how beautiful, if it’s there. Is the one who will pick up the phone. And this day, as it was many years ago, will start with her.
From my mother I learned that on this day it was raining, and for a couple of hours to the hospital and fights and she climbed a cherry. It was summer.
The hospital in the mining town is long gone. We have not been living there, moved in 80 years, and in some dozen kilometers from the village is now the front line. But there is hope that still remained cherry. And summer is the same heavy rain. Only my children I will be able already to tell. And this is a very valuable and important to me. Because of this I learned from my mother.
With the moms I talk daily. Simply because, being on duty in the temple, I often speak with women who comes with some personal trouble. And what women often a personal problem? Children, of course.
Part of my Ministry is also dedicated to them. I am in the hospital near our Church. There, I admit, confess, and sometimes just talk with the women preparing for the most important thing in his life. They are very different. The young, the frightened, those who are in the “first battle”, and women who give birth for the fourth, and even fifth time.
Talk here with one, and she’s worried, because the older daughter had a baby very recently, and that is worried, you need help. She’s worried!!! Her two days in labor, and she cares about it is already an adult daughter. I, of course, at this point wanted to sit down. Not that that surprised. Mothers in age, especially from the region, rather than a rarity. Here I admire the dedication. And, of course, it’s mom. The real.
In the hospital giving birth to my wife. Three times. This, in fact, began as something the care of the perinatal center. Girls giving birth once there, and now live on Sakhalin, and in Georgia. Some of them were good relationships, and we talk on the phone and even see each other. Often their children have to be baptized right after birth. It happens sometimes. In the regional city I live godson, whom I baptized exactly at midnight, almost immediately after an emergency delivery, because there was little chance that he would survive. And mom was very heavy. And now he has three years. And thank God, see each other, talk on the phone.
And there are those who went out not with the joy and happiness of a new life, while black and bitter trouble. And Yes, also talk on the phone, talking, silent, sick. Scary is it? Scary. Me. How can she not even imagine. So a day after birth, was given ten minutes by the baptism of the baby. Not more because further transportation to another hospital. Not moved.
But there was another Martyr, which no one asked. Only aunt. Called the front Desk, was interested in… so I christened it so in the box next to a doctor, I swallowed the words of the prayer as sharp stones, and he lay and opened his eyes. And very much was in those eyes. And then I realized that I don’t dare to judge me the rights not given. Because I don’t know why and how all this happened.
But easier I was only when I realized that convey the soul of this sufferer in the hands of the Mother. And maybe She was at that moment somewhere. And the weapon sliced Her heart. It always happens through the centuries.
Mom different. One that I know well, now over 90. A few years ago she buried her son. And with her granddaughter and I were in the same class, and then in the Institute. I visit her often, but always leave her a little bit another. What is there in this heart? What love and pain?
I remember my, already dead, the grandmother, who left us forty days after the funeral of his son, my father. The white handkerchief she’s there, in the cemetery took the graves a handful of soil. To take home with them. Where a few years later, war breaks out, and she, a child who saw the occupation, will lose their mind and will not return to consciousness.
Mom different. For the past few weeks one of my friends is staying with his daughter in intensive care, far, in another country. I do not remember, when we are all together so much worried and prayed. And contrary to predictions doctors, her baby is alive and is trying very hard to survive. And for her and her daughter praying my other friend mom. She’s already lost an adult son. And this unceasing pain. And all this so near and also very far from each other. But what is important, and kind, and beautiful words and what feelings I learn from these women, strangers to each other.
And for some reason it reminded me of the feast of the presentation. Although he and winter.
It seems to be talking about the meeting of Simeon with the Christ child.
Where the arms of the prophets and the law with mercy and Resurrection.
Everything is in his hands and composes the heart of the Mother.
And because all the sky-blue color.
And I still think that they’re right in that my birthday is mother’s day.
But let even this one. If anyone knows who the first to congratulate to your birthday.