Today the most amazing thing happened to me. Following a call yesterday morning, I got ready to give my grandmother Holy Communion at home. Contrary to my custom, I set the time a little later: at 8.30. I asked the candle shop seller for the address: the house where there used to be a telegraph office. When leaving the church, I felt some slight excitement, even as I walked I prayed like this: “Grant, Lord, that everything will be safe and orderly.” He smiled to himself — why did such a word “decorous” come up?!
Again, against my custom, I did not check the house number with the one indicated in the note, and did not make a call to the number available there. I just looked at the apartment number, correctly 35. An elderly man opened it. He looks at me in surprise. I ask: “Is grandma waiting? Are you getting ready? — “Yes, yes, she’s already asking to go there!” And he points his finger at the ceiling.
Takes out an old woman with two clubs from another room. “They came to you from church!” — shouts. She, not hearing: “What? Some authorities have come? I say in her ear: “Father has come!” She gasps enthusiastically and gratefully: “Why, my dear, you found me!” She’s 93, glasses are about +10, one ear looks like a double rose, it’s bleeding (it looks like «onko»). But consciousness and memory are strong.
We pray, I ask my son to go to the landing for confession. A difficult and long-suffering life is common for her peers, but there are no insults or reproaches. “And I am always with God! And now with God!”
After rummaging under the pillow, he takes out and kisses the crucifix. Communion. Everything is decent. My son comes in, I advise you to congratulate your mother on communion. He hugs her and kisses her. They thank me, and I say: “Thank you, I was worried about mommy, I invited my father…”. It turns out he didn’t invite.
When I returned to the cathedral I found out that I had the wrong address. They were waiting for me in a completely different house, on the other side of the street. A parishioner was waiting for me, whom we have been giving communion to every fast for at least 10 years, but that’s okay: tomorrow, the day after tomorrow I’ll go and see her. And the servant of God Maria only had the same apartment number, but somehow her son came to visit on time…
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