At the age of 12, I became a drug addict and spent two years wandering around with a group of hippies in basements and attics. It was hell. I died. And when she came to Optina deserts at the age of 14, she was already sitting on a needle. How much I loved Optina and wanted to live a clean, different life! I couldn’t live without drugs anymore. I had to urgently get a dose, and I was already getting on the bus, leaving the Optina desert, as the road blocked me by an unknown monk.
«You can’t leave here,» he said and took me off the bus.
It was the monk Trophim.
Then I lived in Optina for two years, and every two weeks I tried to escape. And Trophim again intercepted me at the bus, convinced me, persuaded me, and I dared him. I already knew that after leaving Optina, I would not give up drugs, and there was only a terrible death ahead. But this is incomprehensible, probably to many — a drug addict cannot live in a monastery, since the demon drives him from the monastery to perdition. The drug addict becomes a demon player and no longer possesses himself.
I tried to hold on, but when one of ours showed up, My father was desperate for me: How much? Again? It was such a hellish experience that I decided to kill myself. She took out a lethal dose of drugs and, hiding in the ruins of the Kazan temple, prepared a syringe to give an injection. From death I was separated by seconds when the monk Trophim suddenly entered the temple. I immediately hid, deciding to wait until he left. And for some reason he did not leave — he prayed, read and looked for something. And it’s been like this for three hours! When he found me, he immediately understood everything, and I, breaking off, shouted to him: “I am tired of living!” I’m tired of it! Why have you been here for three hours?
Trophim put me in the hospital and nursed me like an older brother. His voice still rings in his ears: “Be patient.” Hold on a little longer. For the Lord’s sake, be patient.
The healing was long and difficult, but it happened. He was preceded by one incident. I’ve been living for a long time, forgetting about drugs, and rejoicing — the past is over.
Suddenly, late at night, I was told that “ours” had stopped in the woods near the lake and invited me to “get high.” And then the old flashed with such force that I, mad, ran into the woods. Here is a mystery, for me incomprehensible — for some reason always in such cases Trophim blocked my way. He intercepted me on the road:
— Where are you going at night?
Ours are here, and I want to visit them.
— What, you’re slamming them again? I’ll come with you.
In order to get rid of Trophim, I insulted him so grossly that he left silently.
I run to the lake along a familiar path, and suddenly — thunderstorm, thunder, lightning, darkness. And I got lost in the woods. Pits, snags, I fall somewhere and pray for one thing already in fear: “Lord, forgive and lead to Optina!” And the darkness is so, and the thunder is thundering, that I do not know where the monastery is.
I returned to Optina Deserts late at night. The gate was locked. But I was burned so much guilt in front of Trophim that I begged me to let go. I see the light in the temple, and there the monk Trophim prays. He smiled at me with a weary smile: «Thank God I’m back.» And I just ask, Trofim, forgive me for Christ’s sake, I won’t do it again! Sorry!!!
When I was 16 years old, the question of choosing a path for me was no longer. I wanted to be like the monk Trophim, and then went to a monastery.
On Good Friday 1993, our mother abbess went to Optina Deserts and took me with her. Monk Trophim rejoiced at my arrival and presented me with the icon “The Resurrection of Christ” and wool rosaries woven by it. But she left Optina in anxiety: what about Trophim — the sick eyes and the appearance of exhaustion? I think he felt something and was struggling already at the limit. And later I was told that about an hour before the murder, he approached a resident of our monastery and asked me to bow. «What do you want to pass on?» she said. She’ll come here a hundred times, so you can tell her. Monk Trophim stood silently next to her and left.
When on Easter we heard about the murder in Optina desert, the whole monastery wept. And I had the feeling of victory: the demon regiments were trampled, and Trophim won! Tears came later, and at first there was a sense of triumph: hell, where is your victory? God, thank You!
From the book by N. Pavlova «Easter Red»
The Holy Land Charitable Foundation
Soul investment!
Orthodox stories from life
