September 1994. My 12-year-old son and I finished trading at the Tatar Bazar and came to the station at 16:30 to go home. But we were told that the bus broke down and there was nothing to leave. The village is 70 km away. It is impossible to get to the village, there are no relatives in the city. Where to sleep? I’m panicking. A stalemate. And then I remember that my sister’s friend, somewhere behind the train station in high-rise buildings, got an apartment, and I decided (ooh rural naivety!) to go, go to every house, every apartment and ask: “Do they know where 12-year-old girl Lena Shalamov, the champion of Russia, lives?” I moved away from the station, now it is the temple of Prince Vladimir, raised my head on the dome and said, as my godmother did in a difficult situation: «Lord, help.» We walked from the station, only 100-150 meters, 12-13-year-old girls are running, I stop them and ask: Girls, do you know where Lena Shalamov lives? » And I hear back:
«Aunt Nadia, don’t you recognize me?»
The unbeliever will say it’s a coincidence. I am sure that it was not without God’s providence.
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Orthodox stories from life
