Probably, everyone before baptism or coming to faith had an experience of hot, not fully understood prayer.
My mother baptized me at the age of 7, in the only church operating at that time (1985) in the city, for some time he attended Sunday school even, until the age of nine. In general, the grain was sown, and I knew the basics of the Orthodox faith from childhood. Only I’ve safely forgotten all this. Very quickly.
He studied at a linguistic school, quite successfully, and everything would be fine, and the believer, and the prospect of obtaining a prestigious education, but … with the collapse of the Union came the long-awaited freedom. As teenagers, we got open access to tobacco and alcohol.
My “golden childhood” lasted until the eighth grade, but my youth was measured by immeasurable liters of alcohol and blocks of cigarettes. On one of these days, which I have already habitually spent, we dragged a couple of chickens from a yard, collected wine and “sit down mentally,” so to speak.
I am walking through the village of drunken wine, in the hand of a chicken roasted, eating, and – from where to come – my mother to meet (and, it should be noted, I was afraid of my mother like fire, whipped me like a cider goat), looked at me and, of course, behind the stick. And I don’t be a fool, with fried chicken in my teeth, drunk, saying, “Mom, I went to church.” And shit! But after all, he gave a shit to the church, I think – in the church, then, it won’t beat.
I stand in our ruined village church, I wait, I wait with fear, my mother waits with a stick, I know the punishment will be harsh. But how can we pray: “God, at least what did they send me, but correct me and so that my mother did not stuff!” The mother apparently went home, and the holiday continued that evening.
And at night, I and a friend, not remembering myself from the infused, broke into the first private store opened in our village. They took vodka, wine, sweets, cigarettes for a decent amount at that time (five hundred rubles). Of course, there were eyes and ears, in general, they told us — either to compensate for the damage or to the bench. Where to go? Where to get this money for non-working children? “Well, you sent me, O God, ‘at least something,’ I think you won’t drink there!”
In the city cathedral at this time was in full swing restoration, there was a museum of local lore, and my mother took me there. We went to the secretary of the diocese, the Kingdom of Heaven for him, outlined my plight. I’m standing, please, give me five hundred rubles, and I’ll work this money, I’ll carry bricks, the construction is in full swing. The secretary asks, “What do you do at home, Vova?” I drink vodka and sing songs on the guitar! «Well, here in the choir and sing, work.»
He signed my petition for the issuance of five hundred rubles and enrolling me in the state. For twenty-two years I have been a singer of the Cathedral in the Bishops’ Choir, I have a family: a smart wife and a wonderful daughter. The drunken prayer-begging «Send me, God, at least something» was not only heard, but immediately, miraculously fulfilled.
Remember always, in every state, in every situation, about God, He hears us, He loves us, and He will not leave us unless we leave Him. And don’t forget to thank you, you know how grateful I was for the wine, for the store. If God had not given this “something,” there would not have been what is. Glory to Thee, O our God, Glory to Thee!
Author: Vladimir Chernoskutov
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