cancer. The woman fell asleep.
The man comes after a while. I host him, and he tells me about the youngest
child they had. He was 9 years old at the time. He will be grown up now.
One day after his mother's death, the child tells him, "Dad, I saw Mom,
and she's very well. We went to where she lives.
Where does the father ask? In a place, he says, with trees, flowers, and houses. One was
hers with a garden, and she watered it. She even had birds.
And I tell him, the father says to me, "You see, mom is fine where she
is, that's why you shouldn't be sad." Of course, he didn't believe
anything. He didn't lose his mother; he would dream of his mother. He was left an orphan.
He comforts his pain with dreams. We don't say that anyone who is hungry
dreams of bread. Why should the father believe it? You saw, he says to him, that's why you and
I separated. Mom is fine where she is. The next day, the
same thing.
Then the same thing again. Then the same thing again. So he says, and I started to
wonder, and out of curiosity, I began to ask, are there
mountains there? No, everything is straight. There is the sun
No, but everything is bright. After a few days,
the father could not understand. Of course, he was surprised by the persistence of the dream
that was no longer a dream, but each time it had different episodes. He did not
know what it was supposed to be. After a few days, dad and mom
took me and took me to where grandma and grandpa are.
And grandma and grandpa receive more than mom and have a bigger
house than mom's house. I ask again, he says I was far away No. What
clothes do they wear? White. He did not know what to ask the
man. So now, out of curiosity, what shoes do they wear? They are not visible because the
clothes cover the shoes. What hairstyle does Mom have? What hair does Mom
have? What hairstyle does Mom have? I cannot see because their face is very
bright. He did not know what to assume. For 10 days,
there have been others there. Well, they are talking, but the child could not
hear their voices. I was starting to get worried, he says.
He understood that something was happening. But one day he says to him, "Dad, Mom doesn't
have any scars on her belly from the surgeries she had, because
her wife had cancer and lost them." He says, "Now ask, did you see
on mom's belly?" "No, he says, she told me herself.
She didn't have any scars on her belly. One day, Dad,
Grandma Stavroula is taller than Grandpa.
She was taller than Grandpa. And that's when he says I needed them.
Grandma hadn't met her, but she was still kicking inside. And how could he accept it? Maybe
she heard it. Maybe she saw a photo somewhere that I don't know.
Yes, she's taller. The next day, dad, they have another little child with
them. That's when he says
I started to understand that something was happening.
How he was closer than me, with a beard, with straight black hair,
he was describing to him, he almost fainted. He was describing to him his brother, not his
little brother, his father's brother, Loukas, who had died at the age of 7
during the occupation.
Even the father himself didn't remember the little brother very well.
He was describing his little brother to him. He says I froze and didn't know what to say.
I'm missing a lot of what he told me. He took him to Saint Nektarios, and it happened.
The little one puts his ear to the grave to listen as they hear noises from inside
the tomb of the Saint. He fell asleep. God allowed it.
He found himself with Saint Nektarios, who held him by the hand and
took him to his mother. And he saw me, he says, and was surprised.
Notice this small detail, the child would never think to
mention it. The mother was devastated. Why? Why didn't she take him this time herself?
Saint Nektarios took him to them, and she didn't expect it and lost him.
She hugged him. She had never hugged him before. Another time, she
hugged him because it was the last time she would see her
and gave him advice on what to say to the living and told him to go now, and
he found himself again in the monastery of Saint Nektarios.
Be careful not to be scandalized by these descriptions. When we hear that in
Paradise, he had a house that he left, he had a garden with flowers, he had birds, we won't
have birds and gardens and houses, but how can they describe to us something that
We haven't lived it to understand it. They use images that
We know how to convey to them the message that all of them want.
We like it, we don't like it, there is no death. We are
condemned to be immortal. From the moment we begin to exist,
we will not cease to exist. We die only when we are cut off from the one who
said, "I am the life and the resurrection." It always amazes me how we can and
do come into contact with people who have fallen asleep
in the Lord in the church, and we can't come into contact with anyone.
Of those who didn't die in the church, where did they go, where did they get lost, where
are they? We can imagine.
And when I say that we can come into contact with people who fell asleep
in the Lord, I don't mean the saints, I mean in everyday life.
She is a woman on an island, a poorly educated woman. She didn't know much
. Married with children,
she falls ill. She
didn't have it; she didn't know anything about church. She had an innate piety. She went to
church, but beyond that, nothing else. She falls ill. They take her to the
hospital. In the hospital, she dies.
There were two death certificates. One from the hospital doctor
and one from the village doctor on the island where they went to bury her.
They put her in the coffin, covered her with flowers, mourned, and cry and
she says
to her spiritual, dying
she suddenly found herself in the kingdom of heaven in an immense white light.
I omit much of what she describes, and in this light, she had a
strange reception, as she describes it herself. She
was welcomed by a pious and many God-fearing monks famous for
her virtue while she lived on the island, and a good man who had come down in the world
because of his goodness was, unfortunately, the laughing stock of the villagers.
They took him, mocked him, showered him with eulogies, and the supposedly
good children. Following the example of the elders, they not only did the same,
but also threw tomatoes, garbage, and other filth at him. Dying,
however, Barbathanasis found himself in Paradise.
So that young mother, a high angel, the monks
and a martyr Barbathanasis welcomed that young woman. And I say the martyr because
his life on earth had been a martyrdom. And after the young mother was expelled, she enjoyed a spiritual awakening
and without burdening the blessings of paradise, she asked to remain
there forever. I omit. The nun answered
that nothing depends on us. We will take you to Jesus Christ our Lord. He
will decide, however, for she looked over there, you see, there are thousands of
oil lamps. And indeed, in a celestial dome, she saw hundreds
of hundreds, thousands of thousands per month of oil lamps hanging in various quantities. I pity
each one. You see that oil lamp, and she showed her some directly in the quantities that
were there. It is yours, and as you see, it is full of oil.
So your time has not come. All that follows is revealed to us with
images that we can understand. But since he insists, said the monks, let
us go to our Lord Jesus Christ, the righteous Cretan. And under the infinite
and most convulsive and most crimson, there those angelic glories were advancing
in paradise. Again, I omit many. They arrived in front of a great palace
. Beauty and whiteness, and within it, on a fiery throne
sat Jesus Christ. Crying, she fell to her knees and
implored him to stay there, and Christ answered her, "No, you will
return." And suddenly, the monks and the young
woman were outside the palace. And as they walked in this outpouring of light, the
light of the hermitage, she heard the myriads of angels and archangels chanting
the Sunday prayer continuously and unceasingly. That is, the Our Father. The angels chanted
the Our Father. They finished and began again from the beginning, and again from the
beginning countless times until they reached the place where the monks
and Barbathanasis had welcomed her. But in the meantime, she had already learned the Our Father.
Now that you are leaving and returning to her, she says, "Nun, you must learn, and
I believe it." Because within this lies the essence and the truth of our faith. The
truth of the church, of the crucified and risen Jesus Christ.
And at this point, the young woman opens her eyes, while with her lips
she said loudly, "I believe in one God. I believe in one God." and sees that
she is in the coffin covered with flowers, with her arms crossed
on which was an icon of the Virgin Mary.
Can you imagine what happened? The man left from somewhere else, the children from somewhere else,
the girlfriends and neighbors shouting. I hosted
this taxi driver from Athens. One day, he tells me I'm picking up a girl from
Eleftherios Venizelos Airport. She had come from abroad to take
her home in Kallithea. A cultured girl. A cute, educated girl. You're welcome
to talk to her. I'm taking her home. You look at the
taximeter. She opens her wallet. There's not enough money. In a moment, she says
I'm coming. She goes downstairs. I saw her entering the house, and I waited. I waited,
waited, waited. The girl didn't come out. She forgot. She
forgot that I was waiting. She gets out, opens the taxi door, and
knocks on the door. Well, a woman comes out. Excuse me, she says,
the money to leave. The woman looks at it. What does she say? What money? The money that
your daughter brought from the airport. Who did she bring from the
airport? Your daughter, who just came in.
The woman makes a turn. She turns and goes in. The
man was scared. He was afraid that he might have said something that would hurt her. He says what happened to her. He goes
in, follows her out of distrust for the woman, and runs into someone who
yells at him. What did you tell her, my Christian? What did you tell her? You don't leave us
our pain in the day that it is? She says, Excuse me, sir, I want the money to leave. What
money does the man say? The money for your daughter that I brought.
Which daughter did you bring us now? He says she didn't go. Your daughter didn't come
In your daughter, didn't come in our daughter, he says I'm fine and
turns his head, this gentleman, I turn, and I tell him Antonis
sees a table next to it, a large plate like a small tray with kolyva and
On it, the girl's photo was from two years the memorial for the two
years since her death. Stop.
Why should I accept it?
It is things that logic vomits up. You can't
accept them. The mind has to work. Don't accept easily.
No matter what they tell you. I always admired those who accepted what they were
told. Why should you believe it, leta terrible and terrible things
happen in Greece to taxi drivers. One says he was carrying someone who had
a long beard and long hair, and when he took him where he was going to take him,
he disappeared, and it was the Prophet Elijah. One was carrying a
black one, and they went back to the baggage claim when they reached where he had reached her and
opened the baggage claim. He grabbed the suitcase to give it to her. It was heavy.
He opened the suitcase lid and it was full of dirt and blood and she told him
this is what Greece will become if you don't repent and she disappeared or maybe it was
the Virgin Mary, no taxi driver hasn't had this
happen in all the thrillers why should I accept it
And the taxi driver has a brain, what do you want to say, he said he carried
a dead body from the airport to your house. It will stay.
And what do you think we came all this time with our mouths closed? We weren't
talking on the road. Forgive me, he says to the Lord. I don't
know you, you don't know me, I haven't seen you before, you haven't seen me before. If the one
I brought is not your daughter. How can I know? She turns and tells the mother
that you are now settling your assets in Paros with
your relatives. How could I know?
She turns to the man. If the one I brought here is not your daughter
, how could I know that you are now
opening a room-sharing business with your cousin in Kefalonia?
Excuse me, she says, allow me and
go inside, shouting, 'Sofia, my girl, where are you?" "Sofia, where are you?"
She opens one door. "Sofia, where are you?" she opens the other door. "Opens the other door."
The house is empty. When she returns to the living room, the mother is in shock on the
sofa, the father is struggling in the armchair
, and everyone in the church is wondering
who was the one who cried with the parents.
I had gone out to give a speech in Northern Greece, in the house where they were hosting me.
And they say to me, "Elder, they want to see you with a man. May he be blessed.
When people come. They come and tell me about the two children
they have. A 19-year-old, a 23-year-old. The 23-year-old got his degree at the
Polytechnic University with a scholarship. Not just an honor roll.
Ready to go abroad with expenses paid by others. Imagine now
the joy of the parents. And with the degree and the scholarship in hand, he dies a
horrible death. He died a terrible death, and the parents were shocked. Fortunately,
out of habit,
They gave the name for a forty-year-old. The aunt in Thessaloniki, the sister of the
father who tells me this, had a dream one night. She says she saw
my nephew, Stergios, let's say, he had a rare name
and he was happy, and I saw him very well. When I hear
such dreams, I start to get worried. Perversions. I'm not
speaking out of politeness. But what would the Nepsiotis see? He lost pain. He had it from the subconscious. What will come out?
We didn't say that we were consoling ourselves. And they were fine, and he tells her,
Aunt, tell Dad and Mom not to worry.
I'm very well here, and I was already starting to get nervous.
I can't understand how many people accept dreams.
Maybe because it's something that shocks us, it seems so real that
we wake up, and all day we have a sense of reality.
It couldn't have come out of the subconscious.
And what does it tell you to tell them that I'm not alone here. I have another one
who is the same age as me. He's also 23 years old.
He came last Saturday. He was killed
in a car accident. We have the same name. Stergios.
Stop. Lopia. This is not a dream. This is a police report. And
his nickname is Orphanidis. What a dream this is
for Georgios to hear that his name is Giannis Dimitris. Names that can
come out of our subconscious are Sterius. How many people do we know whose names could come out of her subconscious? Last Saturday, a
specific date, 23 years old, first and last name, and she is from such and such a village.
The woman gets up, her head is spinning. A doctor was going
to a big city near this village. He tells him, "Go to the traffic police.
There was a traffic accident last Saturday, and a young man was killed. "I'll ask," says
the doctor. He does his work, remembers the order, and goes to the
traffic police because the village was very small and the traffic police center was
in the big city next door. They look at the traffic. No, he says, there was no
accident last Saturday. But they told me that a
young man was killed. Maybe it was the one before, and it was the one before. Not
the one before. Not the one before, not the one before. No traffic accident in this
particular village, no young man was killed. He calls her and
tells her. No, he says, there was no traffic accident. She was now surprised.
But he was so sure that it wasn't a dream that he came to the city where I am
now, and I tell him, and I hear it from her brother, the father of the little one, and
he tells him. The people were comforted, and the liturgy was still going on.
Without saying anything to the parents, they take their little nephew, the
19-year-old, in the car, running around for the village
directly to the Cemetery. It's a small village. How many people would have died
the previous Saturday? There would be a fresh grave. And when I was coming
from Athens, the man who was bringing me said to me, "Elder, let's get off the
national road and pass through some nice villages. We'll also avoid the
tolls, we'll see some nice places, and we won't go out, I say. "And as we were passing by,
I saw a sign with the name of the village. This
incident immediately came to mind. I said Stas, Stas, we can go to the cemetery here in the village. Yes,
says the old man, I know because he was staying a little longer too.
We're going out to see how things are going. I like photography too. So I had
my camera with me. We enter the cemetery as did the aunt, the little daughter
of Sergios, little Sterios, with his little brother, the 19-year-old.
They go in, look around, they didn't even have to look.
Entering on the left, the grave is new, the flowers are still fresh,
the date, the young man
and the age. They see someone who took care of the
cemetery, where the child's parents are. They tell her, the woman goes
and says to them, "We are strangers. You don't know me, and I don't know you. I wouldn't
be here talking to you now if I didn't know your son's name and surname
and yours, from the police officer, and he tells her the
incident. The parents started crying because they understood something that can't
be understood otherwise. But now my aunt says, but
my police officer said that your son was killed in a car accident, and they told me next to the traffic police that
there was no car accident last Saturday.
And she says, mother, he was killed in a car accident in Larissa.
The car accident wasn't there. Name, surname, village, age, everything.
I also go to the Cemetery. They had made their grave in the meantime. I went
half a year later. Photo of the young man with an earring.
Poems about PAOK because he was a PAOK football fan.
That's how you and I. You can question the benefit that
the 40 liturgies offer, but go ahead and go to this woman now and
tell her that they are fairy tales. If we don't live them, we can't accept them. Logic
doesn't accept them. First, we said serenade. Second,
rosary. At night, before you go to sleep. We all know
these rosary beads, the 33 beads, the bracelets. Before you go to sleep, you have
someone asleep. Lord Jesus Christ, remember the soul of your servant
so and so. And then in every effort you will say, remember her, remember her, remember her,
remember her, remember her. Not a single penny will be needed. What do you have to lose? Do it. You have nothing to lose. You have
many. Lord Jesus Christ, remember the sins of your servants. You say it once,
you read the names once. M.
