The woman listened to him, looking down with her cheek in her hand. She sighed deeply.
My Nikita tried to comfort me with the same words as you. Foolish one, he said, why weep? Our son is no doubt singing with the angels before God. He says that to me, but he weeps himself. I see that he cries like me. I know, Nikita, said I. Where could he be if not with the Lord God? Only, here with us now he is not as he used to sit beside us before. And if only I could look upon him one little time, if only I could peep at him one little time, without going up to him, without speaking, if I could be hidden in a corner and only see him for one little minute, hear him playing in the yard, calling in his little voice, Mammy, where are you? If only I could hear him pattering with his little feet about the room just once, only once; for so often, so often I remember how he used to run to me and shout and laugh, if only I could hear his little feet I should know him! But hes gone, Father, hes gone, and I shall never hear him again. Heres his little sash, but him I shall never see or hear now.
She drew out of her bosom her boys little embroidered sash, and as soon as she looked at it she began shaking with sobs, hiding her eyes with her fingers through which the tears flowed in a sudden stream.
It is Rachel of old, said the elder, weeping for her children, and will not be comforted because they are not. Such is the lot set on earth for you mothers. Be not comforted. Consolation is not what you need. Weep and be not consoled, but weep. Only every time that you weep be sure to remember that your little son is one of the angels of God, that he looks down from there at you and sees you, and rejoices at your tears, and points at them to the Lord God; and a long while yet will you keep that great mothers grief. But it will turn in the end into quiet joy, and your bitter tears will be only tears of tender sorrow that purifies the heart and delivers it from sin. And I shall pray for the peace of your childs soul. What was his name?
Alexey, Father.
A sweet name. After Alexey, the man of God?
Yes, Father.
What a saint he was! I will remember him, mother, and your grief in my prayers, and I will pray for your husbands health. It is a sin for you to leave him. Your little one will see from heaven that you have forsaken his father, and will weep over you. Why do you trouble his happiness? He is living, for the soul lives for ever, and though he is not in the house he is near you, unseen. How can he go into the house when you say that the house is hateful to you? To whom is he to go if he find you not together, his father and mother? He comes to you in dreams now, and you grieve. But then he will send you gentle dreams. Go to your husband, mother; go this very day.
I will go, Father, at your word. I will go. Youve gone straight to my heart. My Nikita, my Nikita, you are waiting for me, the woman began in a singsong voice; but the elder had already turned away to a very old woman, dressed like a dweller in the town, not like a pilgrim. Her eyes showed that she had come with an object, and in order to say something. She said she was the widow of a noncommissioned officer, and lived close by in the town. Her son Vasenka was in the commissariat service, and had gone to Irkutsk in Siberia. He had written twice from there, but now a year had passed since he had written. She did inquire about him, but she did not know the proper place to inquire.
Only the other day Stepanida Ilyinishnashes a rich merchants wifesaid to me, You go, Prohorovna, and put your sons name down for prayer in the church, and pray for the peace of his soul as though he were dead. His soul will be troubled, she said, and he will write you a letter. And Stepanida Ilyinishna told me it was a certain thing which had been many times tried. Only I am in doubt. Oh, you light of ours! is it true or false, and would it be right?
Dont think of it. Its shameful to ask the question. How is it possible to pray for the peace of a living soul? And his own mother too! Its a great sin, akin to sorcery. Only for your ignorance it is forgiven you. Better pray to the Queen of Heaven, our swift defense and help, for his good health, and that she may forgive you for your error. And another thing I will tell you, Prohorovna. Either he will soon come back to you, your son, or he will be sure to send a letter. Go, and henceforward be in peace. Your son is alive, I tell you.
Dear Father, God reward you, our benefactor, who prays for all of us and for our sins!
But the elder had already noticed in the crowd two glowing eyes fixed upon him. An exhausted, consumptivelooking, though young peasant woman was gazing at him in silence. Her eyes besought him, but she seemed afraid to approach.
What is it, my child?
Absolve my soul, Father, she articulated softly, and slowly sank on her knees and bowed down at his feet. I have sinned, Father. I am afraid of my sin.
The elder sat down on the lower step. The woman crept closer to him, still on her knees.
I am a widow these three years, she began in a halfwhisper, with a sort of shudder. I had a hard life with my husband. He was an old man. He used to beat me cruelly. He lay ill; I thought looking at him, if he were to get well, if he were to get up again, what then? And then the thought came to me
Stay! said the elder, and he put his ear close to her lips.
The woman went on in a low whisper, so that it was almost impossible to catch anything. She had soon done.
Three years ago? asked the elder.
Three years. At first I didnt think about it, but now Ive begun to be ill, and the thought never leaves me.
Have you come from far?
Over three hundred miles away.
Have you told it in confession?
I have confessed it. Twice I have confessed it.
Have you been admitted to Communion?
Yes. I am afraid. I am afraid to die.
Fear nothing and never be afraid; and dont fret. If only your penitence fail not, God will forgive all. There is no sin, and there can be no sin on all the earth, which the Lord will not forgive to the truly repentant! Man cannot commit a sin so great as to exhaust the infinite love of God. Can there be a sin which could exceed the love of God? Think only of repentance, continual repentance, but dismiss fear altogether. Believe that God loves you as you cannot conceive; that He loves you with your sin, in your sin. It has been said of old that over one repentant sinner there is more joy in heaven than over ten righteous men. Go, and fear not. Be not bitter against men. Be not angry if you are wronged. Forgive the dead man in your heart what wrong he did you. Be reconciled with him in truth. If you are penitent, you love. And if you love you are of God. All things are atoned for, all things are saved by love. If I, a sinner, even as you are, am tender with you and have pity on you, how much more will God. Love is such a priceless treasure that you can redeem the whole world by it, and expiate not only your own sins but the sins of others.
He signed her three times with the cross, took from his own neck a little ikon and put it upon her. She bowed down to the earth without speaking.
He got up and looked cheerfully at a healthy peasant woman with a tiny baby in her arms.
From Vyshegorye, dear Father.
Five miles you have dragged yourself with the baby. What do you want?
He got up and looked cheerfully at a healthy peasant woman with a tiny baby in her arms.
From Vyshegorye, dear Father.
Five miles you have dragged yourself with the baby. What do you want?
Ive come to look at you. I have been to you beforeor have you forgotten? Youve no great memory if youve forgotten me. They told us you were ill. Thinks I, Ill go and see him for myself. Now I see you, and youre not ill! Youll live another twenty years. God bless you! There are plenty to pray for you; how should you be ill?
I thank you for all, daughter.
By the way, I have a thing to ask, not a great one. Here are sixty copecks. Give them, dear Father, to some one poorer than me. I thought as I came along, better give through him. Hell know whom to give to.
Thanks, my dear, thanks! You are a good woman. I love you. I will do so certainly. Is that your little girl?
My little girl, Father, Lizaveta.
May the Lord bless you both, you and your babe Lizaveta! You have gladdened my heart, mother. Farewell, dear children, farewell, dear ones.
He blessed them all and bowed low to them.
Chapter IV.
A Lady of Little Faith
A visitor looking on the scene of his conversation with the peasants and his blessing them shed silent tears and wiped them away with her handkerchief. She was a sentimental society lady of genuinely good disposition in many respects. When the elder went up to her at last she met him enthusiastically.
Ah, what I have been feeling, looking on at this touching scene! She could not go on for emotion. Oh, I understand the peoples love for you. I love the people myself. I want to love them. And who could help loving them, our splendid Russian people, so simple in their greatness!
How is your daughters health? You wanted to talk to me again?
Oh, I have been urgently begging for it, I have prayed for it! I was ready to fall on my knees and kneel for three days at your windows until you let me in. We have come, great healer, to express our ardent gratitude. You have healed my Lise, healed her completely, merely by praying over her last Thursday and laying your hands upon her. We have hastened here to kiss those hands, to pour out our feelings and our homage.
What do you mean by healed? But she is still lying down in her chair.
But her night fevers have entirely ceased ever since Thursday, said the lady with nervous haste. And thats not all. Her legs are stronger. This morning she got up well; she had slept all night. Look at her rosy cheeks, her bright eyes! She used to be always crying, but now she laughs and is gay and happy. This morning she insisted on my letting her stand up, and she stood up for a whole minute without any support. She wagers that in a fortnight shell be dancing a quadrille. Ive called in Doctor Herzenstube. He shrugged his shoulders and said, I am amazed; I can make nothing of it. And would you have us not come here to disturb you, not fly here to thank you? Lise, thank himthank him!