Father Vitaly was desperately honking for 10 minutes, it was urgent.
Go to a deanery meeting, and some huge black jeep securely locked his car in the parking lot near the house. “They will come, the car will be abandoned, people are not thought of at all!” What kind of iniquity? – Father Vitaly simmered. Then finally one door rang with a spring opened and came out on the porch … blonde. A typical representative of a glamorous tribe.
— Well, can’t you wait? See, people are busy!
— You know, I’m too busy and in a hurry.
Important business!, Father Vitaly replied to the blonde woman passing by.
He’s in a hurry… The girl continued the monologue. — Pop? Well, the day is wasted! – somehow quite indifferent, more for Father Vitaly. Father was seething with inner helplessness and such a dissatisfied spirit as this blonde, he had long thought that no one and nothing would bring him out of this blissful state of mental balance. He was humiliated by some painted pacifier, so much so that the father could not find a place for himself. And then a rapidly approaching uncontrolled KAMAZ burst into a quiet courtyard.
“Will it hook or not?” – Father Vitaly thought, mentally.
Think about the possible trajectory of the car. And here’s his son.
Fedenka ran to the tarmac for a rolled ball. Neither Father Sergius, nor Father Vitaly, nor both mothers had time to even understand and understand what needs to be done to save the child, and probably would not have had time to do anything. They were preceded by the same jeep that drove past a second ago. They saw that the car, roaring with the engine, sharply rushed forward directly into the forehead of KAMAZ. A deafening roar, a terrible, tearing nerves grinding metal, the sound of bursting glasses – all this happened instantly. And then there was a ringing silence, which could not break even a flock of pigeons, frightened fly from the roof and immediately sat on another roof. And in the midst of all this chaos, Fedenka stood picking his finger in his nose. S
Bewildered he looked at the pile of metal into which the jeep had turned, and then looked back at his parents, as if asking what had happened here? KAMAZ was opened immediately and dragged onto the asphalt dead body of the driver. Judging by the dent on the windshield, he died of
I hit my head on him. And the doors of the jeep, crumpled and depressed, could not be opened. Behind the dark windows it was impossible to see anything. The jeep “went” into the truck through the windshield. The Jeep had to be cut to get the driver out of it. The police arrived, began to interview witnesses. Few people could say, all agreed on one thing – an uncontrolled KAMAZ flew into the yard and crashed into a jeep.
I saw everything, I sat there, the voice of old Mikhalych rang out.
— Yes, jeep-something, he was driving just like that when KAMAZ jumped out. He,
Maybe he would turn to where, and there, at least — grandfather Mikhalych nodded at
After all, when KAMAZ left, the jeep was just here. That’s the thing. Their baby jumped onto the road. And
The jeep, he rushed ahead to save the baby. And
Otherwise, how do you stop him, such a thing?
— So the jeep driver went into a head-on collision to save the baby? After a little silence, the policeman asked.
— And so it is, he nodded, Why would he have his head otherwise?
set up? He had time, he could have left, but he regretted it. The guy set himself up, the big guy.
From a cut hole in the side of the jeep, three men pulled the driver’s body. Father Vitaly ran to the rescuers:
— How is he? Not him, she! the rescuer replied. Father Vitaly could not see the face of the driver – on the stretcher everything was red and had the appearance of anything but a human body.
«Who did this?» — Father Vitaly frantically thought — She saved my Fedya … We need to know who to pray for…
Father Vitaly went to the hospital in the evening.
— Did you bring a girl to you today after an accident? he asked the nurse.
— We do not give information to outsiders! – a nurse cut off in a metal voice and buried herself in a book. Father Vitaly went down the corridor to the exit, thinking about how to scout the state of this Karpova, in an instant became so close and dear to him. Suddenly, a young man in a medical coat jumped out of a door. “Traumatologist surgeon” – Father Vitaly managed to read on the badge.
— Excuse me, could you tell us about the state of the girl after the accident?
— Karpova? She was operated on, now unconscious in intensive care. Call on the phone, they will tell you if she wakes up, the surgeon said and rushed down somewhere.
— I really need it, Father Vitaly asked, You see, it’s mine.
She saved the baby. Father Vitaly entered the room. There was something on the bed, all in bandages and stretch marks. He noticed a cardboard on the back of the bed: Anna Alekseevna Karpova, born in 1985. Father put a chair to the bed, sat on it and leaned over the girl. Her face was terrible, purple blue, swollen.
The girl opened her eyes. Her eyes were normal, gray. There was neither arrogance nor predation in them. Normal girl eyes.
— Is that you? she asked quietly.
Yes. I want to thank you. If there’s anything I can do to help you, tell me.
— How’s your baby? asked Anna.
— He’s all right. He didn’t understand. If it weren’t for you…
— Nothing, Anya replied. There was a silence in which he cried.
Some kind of device.
— Are you really a priest? she asked.
— Yes, I’m a priest.
— Can you forgive me? I’m scared.
— Don’t be afraid. You want to confess?
— Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what it’s called.
— This is called a confession, Father Vitaly hastily sketched epitrachil.
— Tell me anything you want to say. I’m listening to you very carefully.
— “I changed a lot of men,” Anya said after a second pause, “I know it’s bad,” she said. — I also smoked.
Father Vitaly listened attentively to Ani’s confession. She called her sins calmly, without tearful tantrums, without excuses, without the desire to somehow protect herself. If the father did not know who she was, he might think that before him a deeply religious, ecclesiastical, experienced in confession. Such confessions rarely had to be accepted by him at the parish — his grandmothers and aunts usually began repentance with complaints about their neighbors, about their health, with arguments about who was “righter”. Or it was an impenetrable “living like everyone else.”
Anya stopped talking. Father Vitaly looked at her, she lay with her eyes closed. Father wanted to call his sister, but the girl opened her eyes again. She seemed very tired.
— All right? asked Father Vitaly.
— I don’t know what else to say, Anya replied. The priest threw epitrachil over her head and read the permit. They were both silent for a while. Then Anya asked with concern:
— Do you think God will forgive me?
“Of course he will,” replied the father, “he does not reject those who come to him.”
Here Anya smiled a tortured suffering smile.
— I feel better, she said quietly and closed her eyes. Silence of the chamber
It was destroyed by a sharp call. A nurse ran into the ward, then two doctors, and the turmoil began, desperate cries of “Adrenaline!” Father Vitaly left the room and sat down in the corridor on a chair. He thought about Eternity, about the meaning of life, about people. From his thoughts, he was suddenly awakened by silence. The doors of the chamber were wide open and something closed with a sheet was taken out on a gurney into the corridor. Father Vitaly stood up, staring at the gurney. “I did not ask for forgiveness,” he recalled with despair. Two years later, Vitaly’s father had a daughter. The girl was named Anya…
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