Makar's Dream Christmas story I This dream was seen by poor Makar, who drove his calves to distant, gloomy countries - the same Makar on whom, as you know, all the bumps fall. His homeland - the remote settlement of Chalgan - was lost in the distant Yakut taiga. Fathers and grandfathers of Makar

Prayer of the Venerable Elders and Fathers of Optina Hermitage (prayer for every day) Lord, let me meet with peace of mind everything that this day will give me. Lord, let me completely surrender to Your will. Lord, at every hour of this day, instruct and support me in everything. Whatever

A boy at Christ's Christmas tree Christmas story I A boy with a pen Children are strange people, they dream and imagine. Before the Christmas tree and just before Christmas, I kept meeting on the street, on a certain corner, one boy, no more than seven years old. IN terrible frost he was almost dressed

Archpriest Nikolai Agafonov

Altar Boy's Prayer

(Yuletide story)

On Christmas Eve, after reading the Royal Hours, the protodeacon lamented:

What kind of obsession is this year? Not a snowflake. When I think about it, tomorrow is Christmas, but there is no snow, no festive mood.

It’s true,” the rector of the cathedral agreed with him, “they fly into space, so they tore up the sky, the whole weather was mixed up.” Whether it’s winter or something else, you don’t understand.

Altar server Valerka, who was listening attentively to this conversation, timidly inserted a sentence:

And you, honest fathers, would pray that the Lord would give us a little snow.

The rector and protodeacon looked at the always quiet and silent Valery with bewilderment: why did he supposedly become bolder? He immediately began to earn money:

Sorry, fathers, I just thought so, - and quickly ducked into the “sexbox”.

The abbot twirled his finger at his temple after him. And the protodeacon laughed:

Well, Valerka is an eccentric, he thinks that heaven is like a home: he came, ordered and received what you need.

After the rector and protodeacon left home, Valerka, leaving the altar, went to the cathedral to the icon of the Mother of God “Quick to Hear.” From early childhood, as long as he can remember, his grandmother always stood here and looked after this icon during services. She wiped it, cleaned the candlestick standing in front of it. Valerka was always with his grandmother. The grandson’s grandmother did not leave her grandson alone at home, she goes to work - and drags him along with her. Valerka lost his parents early, and therefore he was raised by his grandmother. Valerka's father was a complete alcoholic and often beat his wife. He beat her even when she was pregnant with Valerka. So he was born premature, with obvious signs of mental disorder. In yet another drunken stupor, Valerkin’s dad hit his mother’s head on the radiator so hard that she gave up her soul to God. My father never returned from prison. So Valerka remained in his grandmother’s arms. Somehow he completed the eighth grade at a special school for the mentally retarded, but his main school was his grandmother’s prayers and cathedral services. His grandmother died when he was 19 years old. The abbot took pity on him - where would he go, so poor? - and allowed him to live in the gatehouse at the temple, and so that he would not eat bread for nothing, he brought a censer into the altar to serve. For his quiet and fearful disposition, the archdeacon gave him the nickname Trembling Hind. That’s what they called him, often laughing at his naive eccentricities and stupidity. True, as for the divine service, it could not be called stupid. He knew by heart what followed what, better than some clerics. The protodeacon was surprised more than once: “Our Valerka is blessed, he doesn’t understand anything in life, but he’s really useless in the rules!”

Approaching the “Quick to Hear” icon, Valery lit the candle and placed it on the candlestick. The service had already ended, and the huge cathedral was empty, only two cleaners were mopping the floors for the evening service. Valerka, kneeling in front of the icon, cautiously looked back at them.

One of the cleaning ladies, seeing him put down the candle, said to the other with irritation:

Nyurka, just look, this crazy candlestick will fill us with wax again, and I just cleaned it for the evening service! No matter how much you tell him not to light candles between services, he’s back at it again! And the headman will scold me for not cleaning the candlestick. I'll go scare this Trembling Hind.

Leave the guy alone, let him pray.

So, is he the only one here? We also pray when we are supposed to. The priest will begin the service, and we will pray, but now it’s not supposed to,” and she, without letting go of the mop, headed towards the kneeling altar boy. The second, blocking her path, whispered:

Don’t offend the guy, he’s already offended by God, I’ll clean the candlestick myself later.

Well, as you know,” the cleaning lady muttered, wrung out the rag, still looking angrily towards the altar boy.

Valery, on his knees, listened anxiously to the squabble of the cleaners, and when he realized that the trouble was over, he took out two more candles, placed them next to the first, and knelt again:

Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos, for lighting candles for you at the wrong time, but when the service is going on, there are so many candles here that you may not notice mine. Moreover, they are small, ten kopecks each. But I don’t have money for big ones and I don’t know where to get them.

Here he suddenly sobbed:

Lord, why am I telling You lies? After all, in fact, I still have seventy kopecks left. Today the protodeacon gave me a ruble: “Here,” he says, “for you, Valerka, a ruble, buy yourself some creme brulee ice cream for Christmas, break your fast from the bottom of your heart.” I thought: creme brulee costs twenty-eight kopecks, which means I have seventy-two kopecks left and with that I can buy candles for you.

Valerka wrinkled his forehead and thought, counting something to himself. Then he said joyfully:

I have already spent thirty kopecks, put aside twenty-eight for ice cream, I have another forty-two kopecks, I want to buy four candles with them and light them for your newborn Son. After all, tomorrow is Christmas.

Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos. During the service there are always a lot of people around You, but during the day there is no one. I would always be here with You during the day, but You Yourself know that there is a lot to do at the altar. And clean the censer, vacuum the carpets, and fill the lamps. As soon as I redo everything, I will immediately come to You.

He sighed again:

It’s hard for me to talk to people, and I don’t know what to say to them, but with You it’s so good, so good! Yes, and you understand better than anyone. Well, I'll go.

And, rising from his knees, cheerful, he went to the altar. Sitting in the sexton and polishing the censer, Valery dreamed of how he would buy himself ice cream after the service, which he loved very much. “It’s actually big, it’s ice cream,” the guy thought, “divide it into two parts, eat one after the liturgy, and the other after Vespers.”

This thought made him even happier. But remembering something, he frowned and, standing up decisively, headed again to the “Quick to Hear” icon. Approaching, he said in all seriousness:

This is what I thought about, Most Holy Theotokos, Father Protodeacon is a kind man, he gave me a ruble, but with that ruble he himself could have bought candles or something else. You see, Holy Mother of God, he is now very upset that there is no snow for Christmas. The janitor Nikifor, for some reason, on the contrary, is happy, but the archdeacon is upset. I want to help him. Everyone asks You for something, but I always have nothing to ask for, I just want to talk to You. And today I want to ask for the archdeacon, I know that you love him yourself. After all, he so beautifully sings for You “To my Most Blessed Queen...”

Valerka closed his eyes and began to sway in front of the icon to the rhythm of the chant motif he remembered. Then, opening his eyes, he whispered:

Yes, he himself would come to you to ask, but he has no time. You know, he has a family, children. But I have no one except You, of course, and Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. You yourself ask God to send us a snowball. We don’t need much, so that by the holiday it will be as white as in the temple. I think that God will not refuse You, because He is Your Son. If my mother asked me for anything, I would gladly do it for her. True, I don’t have one, everyone says that I am an orphan. But I think that I am not an orphan. After all, I have You, and You are the Mother of all people, as the Bishop said during his sermon. And he always says the right thing. Yes, I guessed this myself. Just ask me for something, and I will definitely do it for you. If you want, I won’t buy such expensive ice cream, but I’ll buy cheap, milk ice cream for nine kopecks.

He turned pale, lowered his gaze, and then, looking up at the icon, said decisively:

Mother of God, tell Your Son, I won’t buy ice cream at all, as long as it snows. Oh please. You do not believe me? Then I’ll go get some candles right now, and You, Most Holy Theotokos, go to Your Son and ask us for some snow.

Valery stood up and went to the candle box, full of determination. However, the closer he came, the less determined he remained. Before reaching the counter, he stopped and, turning, walked back, clutching the remaining change in his sweaty palm. But, having taken a few steps, he turned again to the candle box. Approaching the counter, he nervously walked around it, making mindless circles. His breathing became rapid, and sweat appeared on his forehead. Seeing him, the candle maker shouted:

Valerka, what happened?

“I want to buy some candles,” he said, stopping and saying in a fallen voice.

Lord, come on over and buy it, otherwise you’re walking around like a pendulum.

Valerka looked sadly at the icon with the “Quick to Hear” standing in the distance. He approached, poured the change onto the counter and said in a voice hoarse with excitement:

For everything, ten kopecks.

When he received seven candles, his soul became lighter.

Before the evening Christmas service, snow suddenly began to fall in fluffy white flakes. Everywhere you looked, white light snowflakes were swirling in the air. Children poured out of their houses, joyfully dragging their sleds behind them. The protodeacon, striding confidently towards the service, smiled from ear to ear, bowing as he walked with the parishioners going to the church. Seeing the abbot, he shouted:

It's been a long time, father, I haven't seen such fluffy snow, a long time ago. You can immediately feel the holiday approaching.

“Snowball is good,” the abbot answered, “how can you tell the weather forecasters to believe after this?” This morning I listened to the weather forecast specifically and they assured me that there would be no precipitation. You can't trust anyone.

Valerka, having prepared the censer for service, managed to approach the icon:

Thank you, Most Holy Theotokos, what a kind Son you are, the ice cream is small, but there’s so much snow piled up.

“There is probably a lot of everything in the Kingdom of God,” Valerka thought, moving away from the icon. - I wonder if there is ice cream there that tastes better than creme brulee? Probably there is,” he concluded his thoughts and joyfully went to the altar.

Samara, January 2003

Dear friends, on the eve of the Nativity of Christ, we bring to your attention the story of Archpriest Nikolai Agafonov “The Altar Boy’s Prayer” about simple, sincere prayer and Christmas miracles.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

On Christmas Eve, after reading the Royal Hours, the protodeacon lamented:

What kind of obsession is this year? Not a snowflake. When I think about it, tomorrow is Christmas, but there is no snow, no festive mood.

It’s true,” the rector of the cathedral agreed with him, “they fly into space, so they tore up the sky, the whole weather was mixed up.” Whether it’s winter or something else, you don’t understand.

Altar server Valerka, who was listening attentively to this conversation, timidly inserted a sentence:

And you, honest fathers, would pray that the Lord would give us a little snow.

The rector and protodeacon looked at the always quiet and silent Valery with bewilderment: why did he supposedly become bolder? He immediately began to earn money:

Sorry, fathers, I just thought so, - and quickly ducked into the “sexbox”.

The abbot twirled his finger at his temple after him. And the protodeacon laughed:

Well, Valerka is an eccentric, he thinks that heaven is like a home: he came, ordered and received what you need.

After the rector and protodeacon left home, Valerka, leaving the altar, went to the cathedral to the icon of the Mother of God “Quick to Hear.” From early childhood, as long as he can remember, his grandmother always stood here and looked after this icon during services. She wiped it, cleaned the candlestick standing in front of it. Valerka was always with his grandmother. The grandson’s grandmother did not leave her grandson alone at home, she goes to work - and drags him along with her. Valerka lost his parents early, and therefore he was raised by his grandmother. Valerka's father was a complete alcoholic and often beat his wife. He beat her even when she was pregnant with Valerka. So he was born premature, with obvious signs of mental disorder. In yet another drunken stupor, Valerkin’s dad hit his mother’s head on the radiator so hard that she gave up her soul to God. My father never returned from prison. So Valerka remained in his grandmother’s arms. Somehow he completed the eighth grade at a special school for the mentally retarded, but his main school was his grandmother’s prayers and cathedral services. His grandmother died when he was 19 years old. The abbot took pity on him - where would he go, so poor? - and allowed him to live in the gatehouse at the temple, and so that he would not eat bread for nothing, he brought a censer into the altar to serve. For his quiet and fearful disposition, the archdeacon gave him the nickname Trembling Hind. That’s what they called him, often laughing at his naive eccentricities and stupidity. True, as for the divine service, it could not be called stupid. He knew by heart what followed what, better than some clerics. The protodeacon was surprised more than once: “Our Valerka is blessed, he doesn’t understand anything in life, but he’s really useless in the rules!”

Approaching the “Quick to Hear” icon, Valery lit the candle and placed it on the candlestick. The service had already ended, and the huge cathedral was empty, only two cleaners were mopping the floors for the evening service. Valerka, kneeling in front of the icon, cautiously looked back at them.

One of the cleaning ladies, seeing him put down the candle, said to the other with irritation:

Nyurka, just look, this crazy candlestick will fill us with wax again, and I just cleaned it for the evening service! No matter how much you tell him not to light candles between services, he’s back at it again! And the headman will scold me for not cleaning the candlestick. I'll go scare this Trembling Hind.

Leave the guy alone, let him pray.

So, is he the only one here? We also pray when we are supposed to. The priest will begin the service, and we will pray, but now it’s not supposed to,” and she, without letting go of the mop, headed towards the kneeling altar boy. The second, blocking her path, whispered:

Don’t offend the guy, he’s already offended by God, I’ll clean the candlestick myself later.

Well, as you know,” the cleaning lady muttered, wrung out the rag, still looking angrily towards the altar boy.

Valery, on his knees, listened anxiously to the squabble of the cleaners, and when he realized that the trouble was over, he took out two more candles, placed them next to the first, and knelt again:

Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos, for lighting candles for you at the wrong time, but when the service is going on, there are so many candles here that you may not notice mine. Moreover, they are small, ten kopecks each. But I don’t have money for big ones and I don’t know where to get them.

Lord, why am I telling You lies? After all, in fact, I still have seventy kopecks left. Today the protodeacon gave me a ruble: “Here,” he says, “for you, Valerka, a ruble, buy yourself some creme brulee ice cream for Christmas, break your fast from the bottom of your heart.” I thought: creme brulee costs twenty-eight kopecks, which means I have seventy-two kopecks left and with that I can buy candles for you.

Valerka wrinkled his forehead and thought, counting something to himself. Then he said joyfully:

I have already spent thirty kopecks, put aside twenty-eight for ice cream, I have another forty-two kopecks, I want to buy four candles with them and light them for your newborn Son. After all, tomorrow is Christmas.

Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos. During the service there are always a lot of people around You, but during the day there is no one. I would always be here with You during the day, but You Yourself know that there is a lot to do at the altar. And clean the censer, vacuum the carpets, and fill the lamps. As soon as I redo everything, I will immediately come to You.

He sighed again:

It’s hard for me to talk to people, and I don’t know what to say to them, but with You it’s so good, so good! Yes, and you understand better than anyone. Well, I'll go.

And, rising from his knees, cheerful, he went to the altar. Sitting in the sexton and polishing the censer, Valery dreamed of how he would buy himself ice cream after the service, which he loved very much. “It’s actually big, it’s ice cream,” the guy thought, “divide it into two parts, eat one after the liturgy, and the other after Vespers.”

This thought made him even happier. But remembering something, he frowned and, standing up decisively, headed again to the “Quick to Hear” icon. Approaching, he said in all seriousness:

This is what I thought about, Most Holy Theotokos, Father Protodeacon is a kind man, he gave me a ruble, but with that ruble he himself could have bought candles or something else. You see, Holy Mother of God, he is now very upset that there is no snow for Christmas. The janitor Nikifor, for some reason, on the contrary, is happy, but the archdeacon is upset. I want to help him. Everyone asks You for something, but I always have nothing to ask for, I just want to talk to You. And today I want to ask for the archdeacon, I know that you love him yourself. After all, he so beautifully sings for You “To my Queen, the Most Blessed...”

Valerka closed his eyes and began to sway in front of the icon to the rhythm of the chant motif he remembered. Then, opening his eyes, he whispered:

Yes, he himself would come to you to ask, but he has no time. You know, he has a family, children. But I have no one except You, of course, and Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. You yourself ask God to send us a snowball. We don’t need much, so that by the holiday it will be as white as in the temple. I think that God will not refuse You, because He is Your Son. If my mother asked me for anything, I would gladly do it for her. True, I don’t have one, everyone says that I am an orphan. But I think that I am not an orphan. After all, I have You, and You are the Mother of all people, as the Bishop said during his sermon. And he always says the right thing. Yes, I guessed this myself. Just ask me for something, and I will definitely do it for you. If you want, I won’t buy such expensive ice cream, but I’ll buy cheap, milk ice cream for nine kopecks.

He turned pale, lowered his gaze, and then, looking up at the icon, said decisively:

Mother of God, tell Your Son, I won’t buy ice cream at all, as long as it snows. Oh please. You do not believe me? Then I’ll go get some candles right now, and You, Most Holy Theotokos, go to Your Son and ask us for some snow.

Valery stood up and went to the candle box, full of determination. However, the closer he came, the less determined he remained. Before reaching the counter, he stopped and, turning, walked back, clutching the remaining change in his sweaty palm. But, having taken a few steps, he turned again to the candle box. Approaching the counter, he nervously walked around it, making mindless circles. His breathing became rapid, and sweat appeared on his forehead. Seeing him, the candle maker shouted:

Valerka, what happened?

“I want to buy some candles,” he said, stopping and saying in a fallen voice.

Lord, come on over and buy it, otherwise you’re walking around like a pendulum.

Valerka looked sadly at the icon with the “Quick to Hear” standing in the distance. He approached, poured the change onto the counter and said in a voice hoarse with excitement:

For everything, ten kopecks.

When he received seven candles, his soul became lighter.

...Before the evening Christmas service, snow suddenly began to fall in fluffy white flakes. Everywhere you looked, white light snowflakes were swirling in the air. Children poured out of their houses, joyfully dragging their sleds behind them. The protodeacon, striding confidently towards the service, smiled from ear to ear, bowing as he walked with the parishioners going to the church. Seeing the abbot, he shouted:

It's been a long time, father, I haven't seen such fluffy snow, a long time ago. You can immediately feel the holiday approaching.

“Snowball is good,” the abbot answered, “how can you tell the weather forecasters to believe after this?” This morning I listened to the weather forecast specifically and they assured me that there would be no precipitation. You can't trust anyone.

Valerka, having prepared the censer for service, managed to approach the icon:

Thank you, Most Holy Theotokos, what a kind Son you are, the ice cream is small, but there’s so much snow piled up.

“There is probably a lot of everything in the Kingdom of God,” Valerka thought, moving away from the icon. - I wonder if there is ice cream there that tastes better than creme brulee? Probably there is,” he concluded his thoughts and joyfully went to the altar.

Story

On Christmas Eve, after reading the Royal Hours, the protodeacon lamented:

– What kind of obsession is this year? Not a snowflake. When I think about it, tomorrow is Christmas, but there is no snow, no festive mood.

“It’s true,” the rector of the cathedral agreed with him, “they fly into space, so they tore up the sky, the whole weather was mixed up.” Whether it’s winter or something else, you don’t understand.

Altar server Valerka, who was listening attentively to this conversation, timidly inserted a sentence:

- And you, honest fathers, would pray that the Lord would give us a little snow.

The rector and protodeacon looked at the always quiet and silent Valery with bewilderment: why did he supposedly become bolder? He immediately began to earn money:

“Forgive me, fathers, I just thought so,” and quickly ducked into the sexton.

The abbot twirled his finger at his temple after him. And the protodeacon laughed:

- Well, Valerka is an eccentric, he thinks that heaven is like a home: he came, ordered and received what you need.

After the rector and protodeacon left home, Valerka, leaving the altar, went to the cathedral to the icon of the Mother of God “Quick to Hear.” From early childhood, as long as he can remember, his grandmother always stood here and looked after this icon during services. She wiped it, cleaned the candlestick standing in front of it. Valerka was always with his grandmother. The grandson’s grandmother didn’t leave her grandson alone at home; she goes to work and drags him along with her. Valerka lost his parents early, and therefore he was raised by his grandmother. Valerka's father was a complete alcoholic and often beat his wife. He beat her even when she was pregnant with Valerka. So he was born premature, with obvious signs of mental disorder. In yet another drunken stupor, Valerkin’s dad hit his mother’s head on the radiator so hard that she gave up her soul to God. My father never returned from prison. So Valerka remained in his grandmother’s arms. Somehow he completed the eighth grade at a special school for the mentally retarded, but his main school was his grandmother’s prayers and cathedral services. His grandmother died when he was nineteen years old. The abbot took pity on him - where would he go, so poor? - and allowed him to live in the gatehouse at the temple, and so that he would not eat bread for nothing, he brought a censer into the altar to serve. For his quiet and fearful disposition, the archdeacon gave him the nickname Trembling Hind. That’s what they called him, often laughing at his naive eccentricities and stupidity. True, as for the divine service, it could not be called stupid. He knew by heart what followed what, better than some clerics. The archdeacon was surprised more than once: “Our Valerka is blessed, he doesn’t understand anything in life, but he’s really stupid about the rules!”

Approaching the “Quick to Hear” icon, Valery lit the candle and placed it on the candlestick. The service had already ended, and the huge cathedral was empty, only two cleaners were mopping the floors for the evening service. Valerka, kneeling in front of the icon, cautiously looked back at them.

One of the cleaning ladies, seeing him put down the candle, said to the other with irritation:

- Nyurka, just look, this crazy candlestick will fill us with wax again, and I just cleaned it for the evening service! No matter how much you tell him not to light candles between services, he’s back at it again! And the headman will scold me for not cleaning the candlestick. I'll go scare this Trembling Hind.

- Leave the guy alone, let him pray.

- Is he the only one here? We also pray when we are supposed to. The priest will begin the service, and we will pray, but now it’s not supposed to,” and she, without letting go of the mop, headed towards the kneeling altar boy.

The second, blocking her path, whispered:

- Don’t offend the guy, he’s already offended by God, I’ll clean the candlestick myself later.

“Well, as you know,” the cleaning lady muttered, wrung out the rag, still looking angrily in the direction of the altar boy.

Valery, on his knees, listened anxiously to the squabble of the cleaners, and when he realized that the trouble was over, he took out two more candles, placed them next to the first, and knelt again:

“Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos, for lighting candles for you at the wrong time, but when the service is going on, there are so many candles here that you may not notice mine.” Moreover, they are small, ten kopecks each. But I don’t have money for big ones and I don’t know where to get them.

Here he suddenly sobbed:

- Lord, why am I telling You lies? After all, in fact, I still have seventy kopecks left. Today the protodeacon gave me a ruble: “Here,” he says, “here, Valerka, a ruble, buy yourself some creme brulee ice cream for Christmas, break your fast from the bottom of your heart.” I thought: creme brulee costs twenty-eight kopecks, which means I have seventy-two kopecks left and with that I can buy candles for you.

Valerka wrinkled his forehead and thought, counting something to himself. Then he said joyfully:

“I’ve already spent thirty kopecks, put aside twenty-eight for ice cream, I have another forty-two kopecks, I want to buy four candles with them and light them for your newborn Son.” After all, tomorrow is Christmas.

- Forgive me, Most Holy Theotokos. During the service there are always a lot of people around You, but during the day there is no one. I would always be here with You during the day, but You Yourself know that there is a lot to do at the altar. And clean the censer, vacuum the carpets, and fill the lamps. As soon as I redo everything, I will immediately come to You.

He sighed again:

“It’s hard for me to talk to people, and I don’t know what to say to them, but with You it’s so good, so good!” Yes, and you understand better than anyone. Well, I'll go.

And, rising from his knees, cheerful, he went to the altar. Sitting in the “sacristan” and polishing the censer, Valery dreamed of how he would buy himself ice cream after the service, which he loved very much. “It’s actually big, it’s ice cream,” the guy thought, “divide it into two parts, eat one after the liturgy, and the other after Vespers.”

This thought made him even happier. But remembering something, he frowned and, standing up decisively, headed again to the “Quick to Hear” icon. Approaching, he said in all seriousness:

“This is what I thought about, Most Holy Theotokos, Father Protodeacon is a kind man, he gave me a ruble, but he himself could have bought candles or something else with that ruble.” You see, Holy Mother of God, he is now very upset that there is no snow for Christmas. The janitor Nikifor, for some reason, on the contrary, is happy, but the archdeacon is upset. I want to help him. Everyone asks You for something, but I always have nothing to ask for, I just want to talk to You. And today I want to ask for the archdeacon, I know that you love him yourself. After all, he so beautifully sings for You “To my Queen, the Most Blessed...”

Valerka closed his eyes and began to sway in front of the icon to the rhythm of the chant motif he remembered. Then, opening his eyes, he whispered:

- Yes, he himself would come to you to ask, but he has no time. You know, he has a family, children. But I have no one except You, of course, and Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. You yourself ask God to send us a snowball. We don’t need much, so that by the holiday it will be white, like in the temple. I think that God will not refuse You, because He is Your Son. If my mother asked me for anything, I would gladly do it for her. True, I don’t have one, everyone says that I am an orphan. But I think that I am not an orphan. After all, I have You, and You are the Mother of all people, as the Bishop said during his sermon. And he always says the right thing. Yes, I guessed this myself. Just ask me for something, and I will definitely do it for you. If you want, I won’t buy such expensive ice cream, but I’ll buy cheap, milk ice cream for nine kopecks.

He turned pale, lowered his gaze, and then, looking up at the icon, said decisively:

- Mother of God, tell Your Son, I won’t buy ice cream at all, as long as it snows. Oh please. You do not believe me? Then I’ll go get some candles right now, and You, Most Holy Theotokos, go to Your Son and ask us for some snow.

Valery stood up and went to the candle box, full of determination. However, the closer he came, the less determined he remained. Before reaching the counter, he stopped and, turning, walked back, clutching the remaining change in his sweaty palm. But, having taken a few steps, he turned again to the candle box. Approaching the counter, he nervously walked around it, making mindless circles. His breathing became rapid, and sweat appeared on his forehead. Seeing him, the candle maker shouted:

- Valerka, what happened?

“I want to buy some candles,” he said, stopping and in a fallen voice.

- Lord, well, come and buy it, otherwise you’re walking around like a pendulum.

Valerka looked sadly at the ark with the “Quick to Hear” standing in the distance. He approached, poured the change onto the counter and said in a voice hoarse with excitement:

- For everything, ten kopecks.

When he received seven candles, his soul became lighter.

...Before the evening Christmas service, snow suddenly began to fall in fluffy white flakes. Everywhere you looked, white light snowflakes were swirling in the air.

Children poured out of their houses, joyfully dragging their sleds behind them. The protodeacon, striding confidently towards the service, smiled from ear to ear, bowing as he walked with the parishioners going to the church. Seeing the abbot, he shouted:

“It’s been a long time, Father, I haven’t seen such fluffy snow, it’s been a long time.” You can immediately feel the holiday approaching.

“Snowball is good,” answered the abbot, “how can you tell the weather forecasters to believe after this?” This morning I listened to the weather forecast specifically and they assured me that there would be no precipitation. You can't trust anyone.

Valerka, having prepared the censer for service, managed to approach the icon:

- Thank you, Most Holy Theotokos, what a kind Son You have, the ice cream is small, but there’s so much snow piled up.

“There is probably a lot of everything in the Kingdom of God,” Valerka thought, moving away from the icon. – I wonder if there is ice cream there that tastes better than creme brulee? Probably there is,” he concluded his thoughts and joyfully went to the altar.