On May 22, believers remember the transfer of the relics of St. Nicholas from Myra in Lycia to Bari, which took place in 1087. About the certificate wonderful help beloved saint - a selection of real stories.
Intercession of the saint
Our family keeps an ancient icon of St. Nicholas, the Pleasant of God, who was especially revered by my great-grandmother Daria Pavlovna. Why? - a family legend tells about this.
Once my great-grandmother, then still a young woman, went to early service in Iversky Vyksa convent. She lived 15 kilometers from the monastery in the village. Veletma, and the road went through the forest. About halfway, a dirty, shaggy man suddenly jumped out of the forest and blocked Daria’s path. What was a lonely, defenseless woman to do? She began to pray fervently: “Father Nicholas, help!” And then a short, gray-haired old man came out of the forest with a stick in his hand. He waved his stick towards the villain, and said to his great-grandmother: “Do not be afraid of anything, servant of God.” The man looked at the old man, recoiled, then said, turning to Daria: “Well, woman, pray to God and your holy intercessor, otherwise…”, and he disappeared into the forest. And the old man also disappeared, just as he had never been... So miraculously the mercy of the Pleasant appeared visibly Nicholas of God. Talking about the miracle that happened to her, the great-grandmother always cried and prayed fervently in front of the icon of the Saint.
Stepan Fomenkov
"As God willing"
My husband and I were picking mushrooms, but the rain drove us out of the forest. We discovered missing documents in the car: license, registration certificate, which were dropped in the forest. We looked for them for a long time, asked God, but we didn’t find them. A week later, I advised my husband to pray on his knees before the image of St. Nicholas, to ask him for help. The husband agreed, only asked: “What should we do after prayer, go to the forest again?” I answered: “As God willing.” A minute later they called us and said that they had found our documents safe and sound, despite the fact that it had been pouring rain for a week. Returned free of charge.
John and Photinia
Freedom pass
From our area during Patriotic War One young man named Nikolai ended up in a concentration camp. And there was such an order: all the weakened were gathered into one group and sent to the “bathhouse”. Everyone knew what was meant by this word - death! As if exhausted, our Nikolai ended up in such a group. I walked and walked last: I have no strength...
But suddenly he had a burning desire to live. He prayed to Saint Nicholas as best he could: “To Saint Father Nicholas! I'm sorry! I did not honor you well, I prayed little. But now I am in great trouble. I have a wife and two small children at home. How I want to go home! I don't want to die so young! Help me!"
Suddenly the thought appeared: “Fall!” It was autumn, the leaves lay like a carpet on the ground. Fell. The guard could have finished him off, shot him. But he didn’t touch it. Nikolai lay there until the steps died down. He got up and wandered towards the light: it was late in the evening. I got to the village, went into the first yard I came across and collapsed in the barn on the hay.
In the morning the housewife came to feed the cattle. When she saw him, she got scared and called her husband. He asks: “Who are you and where are you from, how did you get here? Tell the truth! If you lie, I’ll shoot you!” Nicholas told the whole truth: how he prayed to St. Nicholas, how he asked him.
The owner ordered his wife to heat the bathhouse, evaporate him, change him, give him sweet tea and put him to sleep on the stove. Two or three hours later they woke him up and gave him a glass of tea. Then, after about the same time, they woke me up again and gave me tea with milk. Then after some time - a glass of milk. Then they added a piece of bread. So, gradually, for three days he was nursed after hunger.
One day the owner comes up to him and says: “You can’t even imagine how lucky you are. I am the commander of the prisoners of all Germany. And I will give you a pass by which neither ours nor yours will detain you.”
Having provided him with everything he needed, they released him. On the German border, a patrol, looking at the document, said: “Oh, gut! Gut! Wonderful!" Our people, when checking, were all surprised and said: “What a document! What a document!” This is the kind of pass St. Nicholas made!
M., Assumption Church, Helsinki
Lens
I'm leaving the church after the evening service. I’m in a hurry to get home, because I’m from work and straight to church. Two old women walk quietly ahead of me. They walk and hold on to each other. Slippery. I tried to overtake them, and at this time one grandmother said to another: “Well, this is just a miracle.” I slowed down and listened. Grandma tells it. “I got ready from home, got dressed already. I grabbed it, but there were no keys on the nightstand. Well, I think they fell. No, not on the floor. I searched and searched. I can not find. I've already undressed. I searched in my pockets and in my bag. Nowhere. At least go away, but leave the door hollow. I went up to the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, and let’s ask him to help me find the keys. I bowed. I get up. I looked up, and my keys were hanging on a nail by the window. I never hung it there, I always left it on the nightstand in the hallway.” I overtook the old women and almost ran again. At home, my mother is sick, and my son has to come home from work. I came home and went straight to the kitchen to prepare dinner. The son came. While he was undressing, she told him what she heard on the way from the temple. My son went into the room, and I went back to the kitchen. About ten minutes later I hear a cry: “Mom!” I run into the room. My son is confused. His eyesight is poor, but he wears contacts rather than glasses. And then one lens somehow fell out. A lens is a small, completely transparent petal. We have a carpet on the floor and a fluffy blanket on the sofa. Will you find it here? And with my eyes there is nothing to even try to look for. And he can't find it. Suddenly my son fell to his knees in front of the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker and began to ask him. And I didn’t bother to interfere, I went back to the kitchen. I think it is impossible to find this lens. We need to buy new ones. Yes, and to work tomorrow. What will he do? Suddenly my son comes into my kitchen and shows me his finger: “Look, mom. I prayed, began to get up, leaned my hand on the sofa, and it was glued to my finger.”
Pavlova Z.S.
Warm the orphans
At Christmas I visited my native Mogilev and visited my beloved St. Nicholas Convent. I learned that this winter the monastery, whose nuns are elderly women, owed a huge amount for heating. The fact is that the monastery is classified as industrial enterprises and the pay is prohibitively high. The authorities promised to resolve this misunderstanding, but they never did. At that time, one servant of God unexpectedly received an inheritance. While thinking about how best to manage her money, she had a dream in which an “old man with a stick” appeared to her and said: “Warm my orphans.” It should be noted that this servant of God was not yet sufficiently churched. But for an explanation of the dream, the woman turned to the priest, who recognized St. Nicholas in the “old man.” On the advice of the priest, this servant of God visited the St. Nicholas Monastery and donated her mite, wanting to “warm the orphans.” She was very surprised to recognize that “old man with a stick” on one of the monastery icons. It was Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker.
Elena Labeza
“Mom, I didn’t drown!”
It was a long time ago. I was ten years old then, and now I’m seventy-four. We arrived at Ozerki. I went for a swim, but I didn’t know how to swim. She walked a few steps and fell into a hole. She immediately went deep into the water, darkness overhead. I swallow water, I feel like I’m dying. Thank God, I prayed to Nicholas the Wonderworker to save me.
We had a wooden icon of him at home. There were other icons, but for some reason I remembered St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. And then I hear, as if in a dream: “Try with all your might to jump.” I jumped - there was a woman above me. She grabbed my finger and pulled me out. And I went to my crying mother. This icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker is always with us, and it survived the blockade.
Stories taken from open access in the Internet.
Saint Nicholas, Archbishop of Myra in Lycia, is perhaps the only saint to whose name the word “Wonder Worker” is added. December 19 is the day of memory of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. I congratulate everyone on the day of remembrance of one of the most revered Christian saints, and I want to tell you about the miracles that St. Nicholas showed in my life.
The first of them took place in the Moscow Church of All Saints on Kulishki, where I ended up at the very beginning of my churching. I was surprised not only by its beauty and beautiful Byzantine chants, but also by the fact that one of the deacons there was a dark-skinned man (possibly of African origin). One of my first confessions took place here. From here, with my problems, they sent me to the Intercession Monastery to the relics of the Matronushka of Moscow. This is where my love for Greece begins. It was here, after my fervent prayers at the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, that one of the first miracles in my life happened...
On Kulishki
The most famous and one of the oldest in Moscow, the All Saints Church is located on Slavyanskaya Square near Solyanka. In 1999, the Church of All Saints in Kulishki received the status of the Metochion of the Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus' and the representative office of the Primate of Alexandria Orthodox Church– His Beatitude the Pope and Patriarch of Alexandria and all Africa.
The rector of the temple is Metropolitan Athanasius of Kirin, exarch of the Libyan Peninsula, representative of the Patriarch of Alexandria to the Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus'. Divine services at the courtyard are performed in Slavic and Greek.
The church on Kulishki has been known since the 14th century.
The first wooden temple-monument to the military glory of the Russian army was erected by the noble prince of Moscow Dimitri Donskoy in gratitude to the Lord for the victory granted in 1380 on the Kulikovo field and in memory of the soldiers who fell there.
In ancient times, on the site of modern Varvarka and Solyanka streets there was Vasilyevsky Meadow, which, together with the adjacent lands, was called Kulishki (Kulizhki, Kuligami). This was the name given to plots of land for haymaking along river banks.
The chronicler mentions the temple in 1488: “...at the ninth hour of the day the Church of the Annunciation on the Swamp caught fire, and therefore it burned from the city to Kulishka, not even to All Saints.”
The temple burned in fires in 1493, 1547, 1688, 1737. In 1930 or 1931 the temple was closed. In 1991, it was returned to the Church, consecrated and restored.
The shrines of the temple are the Cross-crucifix, icons Mother of God“Tikhvinskaya”, “Sign”, “Hodegetria-Sumela”, “Merciful”, icons of the martyr Andrew Stratelates and the holy apostle and evangelist John the Theologian. They also bring here shrines from other places, including a particle of the relics of the very revered Saint Luke (Voino-Yasenetsky), Archbishop of Simferopol and Crimea.
About the miracles that began in this temple
year 2014.
The sanctity of motherhood.
At the end of January 2013, my brother became seriously ill, at the same time my house burned down, and at the beginning of December of the same year I was laid off at work. Having suppressed my wild despair, I remembered who helped me find permanent job in 2004, and came to the All Saints Church, not knowing that every Thursday morning here you can venerate a particle of the relics of St. Nicholas, and in the evening you can pray at a prayer service with an akathist and blessing of water.
On January 30, 2014, my birthday, I took communion at the Church of All Saints and was about to leave. But Saint Nicholas did not let me go, I kept standing by his icon and suddenly I heard one granny tell another that they would soon take out the ark with a particle of his relics. When they brought him out, the women and I read an akathist to the great wonderworker.
Needless to say, almost immediately after this I was offered a job. Currently, I am covering the topic of “the sanctity of motherhood” and making my contribution to the fight against such an evil as abortion.
Throne with the tomb of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker in Bari. Lower Temple.
2010
Like Nikolushka and Dmitry DostoevskyThey brought me to Bari.
I’ll tell you how, through the prayers of St. Nicholas, I was able to venerate his venerable relics, exuding fragrant myrrh, in the Italian city of Bari. I have not the slightest doubt that it was Nicholas the Wonderworker who brought me to Italy. Knowing that he helps with material needs (remember the bag of money thrown by the saint for two poor girls), I read the akathist to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker for forty days - from March 18 to April 29, 2010 (then I read it from July 2 to August 13 and from August 30 to October 10, 2010).
And suddenly, on March 21, the magazine “Slavyanka” appeared in my hands with an article by Nikolai Kozhukhin “Meeting with Great Wonderworkers” (2009. No. 12). Under in an unusual way saint in a cap, we were talking about St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, about his quick help: “Nikolushka the saint will never leave! Him loving heart; As soon as you ask him for anything, he’s right there!” (page 92). At these words, I burst into tears and, turning to Nicholas the Pleasant (and that was St. Spyridon!), bitterly reproached him: “Why do you help others, but don’t hear me?”
That year, under the weight of the trials that befell me, my faith, acquired eight years ago at the bedside of my brother, who was dying in intensive care, collapsed. Over the years, I have visited so many shrines that no one else will ever see in their entire life. And it seemed to me that my faith grew stronger. But God sent a blow of such force that I barely survived it and begged the Lord: “Help, Father!!!”
Hundreds of times I have read the phrase in the Gospel: “Your faith has saved you.” “I didn’t save, but destroyed! God doesn't hear me! He left me, punished me, didn’t help!” - I complained with approximately these words that night to two saints - Nicholas the Pleasant and Spyridon of Trimifuntsky. How could I have known then that in the summer I would meet two great miracle workers at once? What if this article hadn’t caught my eye? What a pity that the Slavyanka magazine burned down along with my house - in those minutes I wrote down in the margins of the article, the date and time of the miracle that occurred.
On March 23, that is, a day after my night conversation with the saints depicted on the pages of “Slavyanka”, Olga Alexandre, the director of the international children’s Orthodox camp “Blagovestnik”, whose work I covered in 2009, called me. She offered to come to Switzerland again as a journalist and teacher. At that moment I was terribly depressed, but out of inertia I agreed.
Around the same days, a letter arrived from Doctor of Philology, Professor Stefano Aloe, who is an associate professor at the Department of Russian Literature and Slavic Studies at the University of Verona and executive secretary of the International Dostoevsky Symposium. When I read that my report was included in the symposium program, I didn’t believe it, because... during recent years was not engaged in science, but in journalism and social activities. When applying to participate in the forum, I myself did not believe that anything would come of it.
In Italy, I never tired of thanking God and St. Nicholas for this miracle. Nikolushka returned Dostoevsky to me, my dear Dostoevsky brotherhood, which, by the way, was the first to come to my aid after the fire in January 2013. Already a trip to the conference was enough to understand the power of reading the akathist for 40 days. But the main miracle was that Dostoevsky, in turn, led me to the great miracle worker - to the shrine with his holy relics.
While in March I was moaning and crying in an unheated house about my broken fate, upstairs they took care of my fate in such a way that it is impossible to say in a fairy tale or describe with a pen! For many years I dreamed of visiting Bari, but I could not even imagine that I would find myself there, and not alone, but with the great-grandson of the writer Dmitry Dostoevsky.
Even before arriving in Naples, I asked Stefano Aloe in a letter if I would have the opportunity to travel from Naples to Bari. Stefano, whom I remember as a graduate student who came to St. Petersburg for the Dostoev readings, said that it’s unlikely, because it's a bit far. But remembering my question, he told Dmitry Dostoevsky about my desire, who was looking for travel companions for a trip to the great Christian shrine. I owe this unforgettable trip to him!
And here we are with Dmitry Dostoevsky (he turned 72 in 2017) and several of our other friends and colleagues in Bari! It was like a dream.
After Italy, I again felt a taste for life, and the miracles continued! Immediately after Naples and Bari, I just as miraculously ended up in Greece (and not in Switzerland, where I had already bought a ticket). On July 8, 2010, on the day of remembrance of the blessed princes Peter and Fevronia, I was informed that the Russian World Foundation, which a year earlier had allocated a grant for holding the first Orthodox camp in Switzerland, supported my project “Russian World in the Swiss Alps.”
Having received a grant from the “Russian World” for a trip to Switzerland, by God’s providence I was able in a matter of days to rework the project into “The Russian World at the Foot of Parnassus” and go to a Greek Orthodox children’s camp at the invitation of Archimandrite Nektarios (Antonopoulos), now Metropolitan of Argolid.
I owe my trips to Italy and Greece to two saints - Nicholas the Wonderworker and Spyridon of Trimifuntsky, whose icon is also in the Church of All Saints in Kulishki.
2004
About how Nikolushka employed me at the Apostle Andrew the First-Called Foundation.
How fervently, with tears, I prayed at the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker in the St. Nicholas chapel in 2004! I prayed for myself, unemployed, for my husband, who received mere pennies at the Institute of Developmental Biology of the Russian Academy of Sciences. It was absolutely impossible to live on this with a small daughter.
I was on the verge of despair, but I didn’t really believe in any miracles, I didn’t believe that Nikolushka could help... However, literally the next day, a good friend of mine called me from America and asked: “Did your husband defend his Ph.D. thesis? We need a biologist with a degree for a Russian-American company. Write down the address. The salary is good!”
The husband passed the first interview in Russian very successfully, and the second - English language– he didn’t go, no matter how much I tried to persuade him. All in tears, not understanding why he refused this offer, I again prayed in the same temple: “Nikolushka, help!”
Imagine my surprise when, almost immediately after this, I was invited to a permanent job at the St. Andrew the First-Called Foundation, where I worked for more than ten years. In March 2004, I moved there from the Moskovskaya Pravda newspaper, where Saint Joasaph of Belgorod brought me, in turn. I still don’t understand how I alone managed to be the editor of three websites at once - “Dialogue of Civilizations”, the Center for National Glory and the St. Andrew the First-Called Foundation, and the first of them also had a version in English.
Here are just three miracles through the prayers of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, to whom I especially pray a lot. The saint of God receives us with love, being a father to the orphans, a nourisher to the poor, a comforter to those who cry, and an intercessor to the oppressed. I feel his help all the time. Sainted Father Nicholas, pray to God for us sinners!
Stories from the editorial mail of the Pravoslavie.Ru portal
At that time I myself was not a churchgoer and not even baptized. And he confused Nicholas the Wonderworker with Stephen of Great Perm. But even so, I and many of my friends, far from the Church, noted that this saint saved people.
TV report from local TV "Rifey":
r.B. Christina
“I, an ordinary girl, dreamed of a simple female happiness»
I am an ordinary girl, I dreamed of simple female happiness, but my personal life did not work out. I waited, asked in prayers, but, as they say, everything has its time. Years passed, but there was still no happiness. I would like to note that I am a pretty girl, I had a lot of fans, but I couldn’t imagine a relationship without love. I met a lot of good guys, but “not my thing,” and that’s all.
I started building a career, traveling, seeing the world. And this geographical “gourmetism” became for me a kind of substitute for personal life.
One day I came to the temple and began to ask: help, Saint Nicholas... A few weeks later I met a man with whom I had never even thought of becoming acquainted, he was too “mine” in terms of worldview and type. We really liked each other, started dating... And then the difficulties began. I won’t describe the details, but the relationship was stuck at one stage, the candy-bouquet period was over, and it was necessary to decide where to go next. Even though I am a believer, I was tired of loneliness and made concessions: we began to live together. I can’t describe the feeling, I was brought up in strict traditions, plus the Lord did not leave me without admonition: health problems began. And then I again turned to Saint Nicholas with a fervent prayer: I asked for a blessing, if this is my man, to unite us in marriage, and if not mine, then let him leave my life. I prayed almost every day while my beloved was away. And, you won’t believe it, my beloved comes and proposes to me! That same evening we go shopping for rings. Nikola helped us so much that we bypassed the queues at the registry office, we got the day of registration on the great Orthodox holiday Faith, Hope and Love, everything went like clockwork (those who got married know how troublesome a wedding is).
Many miracles were connected in my life with St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. For example, when I lost my job, I always turned to St. with prayers. Nikolai. And soon I found new job, which always not only corresponded to my specialty, brought good income, but also helped me get interesting experience.
I could go on and on about the help I received in different time through prayers to. But I want to say the main thing - we must remember that we must help our loved ones and those in need. difficult moments life. This is precisely what my experience of prayerful communication with the great saint of God, St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, and this is exactly what the Lord expects from us...
Eduard Kichigin
“I asked St. Nicholas for help in finding a job”
Six months ago I was going through an extremely difficult period in my life, and one day I was standing at an evening service in St. Nicholas Cathedral, praying, my soul was painful and heavy, but by the end of the service I felt some kind of consolation and even joy. I won’t say anything about what I prayed for, but in addition to the main thing, I asked St. Nicholas for help in finding a job. After the service I walked home in the rain, and there was such joy in my soul, flying - “Virgin Mother of God, rejoice!” I sang to myself and aloud a little.
I came home and an old friend immediately called me with an offer of a very good job, extremely interesting, useful and promising for me. In order to discuss everything and get my consent, he, despite being extremely busy and worried, came to me that same evening. I got the job, it was difficult, but extremely interesting and useful. I promised Saint Nicholas that from my first salary I would light candles for all the icons in St. Nicholas Cathedral.
But in the end, everything got so twisted, both with this work and in general, that he fulfilled his promise only halfway and not on time - he placed candles only in one of the churches of the cathedral, and there were two of them, on both floors. Now I don’t understand what was stopping me. Yes, and I lived at that time, frankly speaking, not the most in the right way. Things went badly, in general, in the end, I made the second part of my promise to St. Nicholas from my last salary six months later, after my dismissal. Here's the story.
Suzanna Farizova
"I was waiting for you with this finger"
I went to Bari, working at the Kommersant newspaper, in the then presidential pool. She left in a hurry, having spent Maslenitsa visiting on a grand scale the day before.
I was constantly in the way of my bag, the keys in my hands, the door.
This one front door, unable to handle my keys and bag, I ended up hitting my finger. Hit hard.
I had no time. I flew away. In Bari, the finger became swollen, blackened and began to hurt. At first - barely. Then stronger and stronger. But I had to work, and I tried not to think that it hurt.
The program included a visit to the Basilica. The same one where the relics of St. Nicholas lie. They rest behind bars - heavy ones - which are opened on major holidays. I kissed the bars and asked for some global things for myself and my family. And at the end she asked for the finger to go through.
“Ambulance to the rescue”
Our family had a housekeeper for a long time - a pious woman. Her work was formalized by a contract, and we paid for it insurance premiums. When the woman grew old, she went to live with her relatives. When did it come out? new law about pensions, the old lady came to us to take from us the documents necessary to receive a pension. I carefully took care of these documents, but when I started looking for them, I could not find them.
I searched for three days, rummaged through all the drawers, all the closets - and could not find it anywhere. When the old lady came again, I bitterly told her about my failure. The old woman was very upset, but said with humility: “Let’s pray to St. Nicholas to help us, and if even then you don’t find it, then apparently I need to reconcile and forget about pensions.” In the evening I fervently prayed to St. Nicholas, and that same evening I noticed some kind of paper parcel under the table near the wall. These were the very documents I was looking for. It turns out that the documents fell behind the drawer desk and fell out of there only after we fervently prayed to St. Nicholas. Everything turned out well, and the old woman began to receive a pension. So Saint Nicholas, who was quick to help, heard our prayer and helped us in trouble.
“Aren’t you an angel of God?”
One woman recounted an incident that happened to her in 1991. Her name is Ekaterina and she lives in Solnechnogorsk. One winter she was walking along the shore of Lake Senezh and decided to relax. I sat down on a bench to admire the lake. The grandmother was sitting on the same bench, and they struck up a conversation. We talked about life. The grandmother said that her son doesn’t love her, her daughter-in-law really offends her, and they don’t give her “passage.”
Catherine is a pious, Orthodox woman, and, naturally, the conversation turned to God’s help, about faith, about Orthodoxy, about life according to the Law of God. Catherine said that we need to turn to God and seek help and support from Him. Grandmother replied that she had never gone to church and did not know the prayers. And in the morning, Catherine, without knowing why, put the Prayer Book in her bag. She remembered this, took the Prayer Book out of her bag and gave it to her grandmother.
The old woman looked at her in surprise: “Oh, and you, my dear, won’t disappear now?” "What's wrong with you?" – asked Catherine. “Aren’t you an Angel of God?” - The old woman got scared and told what happened to her a week ago. The situation in the house was such that she felt completely unnecessary and decided to commit suicide. She came to the lake and sat down on a bench before throwing herself into the hole. A very handsome old man sat down next to her, gray-haired, with curly hair, with a very kind face, and asks: “Where are you going? Drown yourself? You don’t know how scary it is where you’re going! It’s a thousand times scarier than your life now.” He was silent for a while and asked again: “Why don’t you go to church, why don’t you pray to God?” She replied that she had never gone to church and no one taught her to pray. The old man asks: “Do you have any sins?” She replies: “What are my sins? I don’t have any particular sins.” And the old man began to remind her of her sins, bad deeds, and even named those that she had forgotten about, which no one could know about except her. All she could do was be surprised and horrified. Finally she asked: “Well, how can I pray if I don’t know any prayers?” The old man replied: “Come here in a week, and there will be prayers for you. Go to church and pray.” The old lady asked: “What is your name?”, and he replied: “Your name is Nikolai.” At that moment she turned away for some reason, and when she turned around, there was no one nearby.
“An ambulance to those in need”
The pious working-class family had seven children. They lived near Moscow. This was at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War, when bread was issued on ration cards and in very limited quantities. At the same time, monthly cards were not renewed if lost. In this family, the eldest of the children, Kolya, thirteen years old, went to the store to buy bread.
In winter, on the day of St. Nicholas, he got up early and went for bread, which was enough only for the first buyers. He arrived first and began to wait at the door of the store. He sees four guys coming. Having noticed Kolya, they headed straight towards him. The thought flashed through my head like lightning: “Now they will take away the bread cards.” And this doomed the whole family to starvation. In horror, he mentally cried out: “Saint Nicholas, save me.” Suddenly an old man appeared nearby, approached him and said: “Come with me.” He takes Kolya by the hand and, in front of the guys who are stunned and numb with surprise, leads him to the house. He disappeared near the house. Saint Nicholas remains the same “first aid in trouble.”
“Why are you sleeping?”
This is what a participant in the Great Patriotic War named Nikolai told one priest. “I managed to escape from German captivity. I made my way through occupied Ukraine at night and hid somewhere during the day. Once, after wandering around the night, I fell asleep in the rye in the morning. Suddenly someone wakes me up. I see in front of me an old man in priestly attire. The old man says: “Why are you sleeping?” Now the Germans will come here. I got scared and asked: “Where should I run?” The priest says: “You see, there’s a bush there, run there quickly.” I turned to run, but immediately realized that I had not thanked my savior, I turned around... and he was already gone.
I realized that St. Nicholas himself - my saint - was my savior. With all my might I ran towards the bush. In front of the bush, I see a river flowing, but not wide. I threw myself into the water, got out to the other side and hid in the bushes. I look from the bushes - Germans with a dog are walking along the rye. The dog leads them straight to the place where I was sleeping. She circled there and led the Germans to the river. Then I slowly began to walk away through the bushes, further and further. The river hid my trail from the dog, and I safely escaped pursuit.”
“Crisscross”
This story took place at the very beginning of the Great Patriotic War. It was told by a Moscow priest. It happened to one of his close relatives. She lived in Moscow. Her husband was at the front, and she was left alone with small children. They lived very poorly. There was a famine in Moscow at that time. We had to live in difficult conditions for a very long time. The mother did not know what to do with the children; she could not calmly look at their suffering. At some point, she began to fall into a state of complete despair and was about to take her own life. She had an old icon of St. Nicholas, although she did not particularly reverence him and never prayed. She didn't go to church. The icon may have been inherited from her mother.
And so she approached this icon and began to reproach St. Nicholas, shouting: “How can you look at all this suffering, at how I suffer, I struggle alone? Do you see my children dying of hunger? And you do absolutely nothing to help me!” In desperation, the woman ran out onto the landing, perhaps already heading to the nearest river or planning to do something else to herself. And suddenly she tripped, fell and saw in front of her two ten-ruble bills folded crosswise. The woman was shocked and began to look: maybe someone had dropped it, to see if there was anyone nearby, but she saw: no one was there. And she realized that the Lord had mercy on her, and Saint Nicholas sent her this money.
This made such a strong impression on her that it became the beginning of her appeal to God, to the Church. Of course, she left all the bad thoughts, returned home to her icon, began to pray, cry, and give thanks. She bought food with the money sent to her. But most importantly, she gained faith that the Lord is near, that He does not leave a person, and that in such difficult moments, when a person needs help, the Lord will definitely give it.
Then she started going to church. All her children became Orthodox church people, and one son even became a priest.
“Saving Mother and Baby”
The Veletma River flows along the entire village where my grandmother lived. Now the river has become shallow and narrow, the deepest places are knee-deep for children, but before Veletma was deep and full of water. And the banks of the river were marshy and swampy. And this had to happen - her three-year-old son Vanechka slipped from a log into this swamp in front of his mother’s eyes and immediately sank to the bottom. Elizabeth rushed to him, jumped into the swamp, and grabbed her son. And she doesn’t know how to swim. I came to my senses, but it was too late. And they both began to drown. She prayed to Nicholas the Wonderworker, asking for the salvation of the souls of sinners. And a miracle happened. Like a wave, a large strong stream lifted the mother and baby above the swamp and lowered them onto a dry fallen tree that blocked the swampy place like a bridge. My uncle Vanya is still alive, he is now over seventy.
“Now I need help!”
When the St. Nicholas Church in Zelenograd was being restored, an old woman of about seventy came to the restoration work and said that she had come to help. They were surprised: “Where can I help you?” She says: “No, put me on some physical work" They laughed, and then they looked: she really began to carry something, trying to stand on the most difficult places. They asked what prompted her to do this. She said that the other day an old man suddenly came into her room and said: “Listen, you’ve been asking me for help for a long time, and now I need help, I need help”... She was surprised. Then she remembered that the door to her room was closed. She recognized Saint Nicholas by the image and realized that it was he who came to her and called her to help. She knew that the St. Nicholas Church was being restored, and so she came...
Return of the lost
This happened when my husband worked for the owner in a bread stall. I was then left without work, and we were very poor. The daughter and her family lived in Vorkuta at that time. Literally using her last money, she called me and said that a lot of things were being decided in their fate now, and that she had written about everything in two letters. You can imagine how worried I was about her and waited for these letters! And so they came.
I was just bringing lunch to my husband and put them unopened in my coat pocket. But when I returned, there were no letters in my pocket. Apparently, I somehow dropped them on the way. What happened to me!.. I ran back, examining every centimeter of the road, but I couldn’t find any letters. I came home, fell to my knees in front of the icons, cried and began to pray and ask Father Nicholas the Wonderworker to help me. I begged him to return the letters to me. I said, sobbing, that they were from my unfortunate child and that they were more valuable to me than any money, that it would be better if I lost money than these letters.
And at some point, peace entered my soul, as if I had heard an answer to my prayer. And the next day at mailbox both letters were there. Someone's kind hand lifted them and lowered them there. I thanked the Lord and Father Nicholas the Wonderworker with all my heart for their great mercy towards me. But the miracles didn't end there.
In the evening my husband came home from work - he had no face. It turned out that he accepted a counterfeit fifty-thousand-dollar bill, gave him bread and change from it, and at that time this money almost entirely made up his salary. He was going home and didn’t know how to tell me about this: it meant that we would have to starve for more than one day, and I was already exhausted, saving every penny. But in my soul there was such joy from the letters given to me that I not only was not upset, but once again, together with my husband, I thanked my quick assistant and the great Wonderworker for his mercy to us. After all, everything happened according to my word: I said that these letters were for me. more expensive than money. So how could I be annoyed with my husband for this very money?
And then the second miracle happened: the owner forgave us for this shortfall and paid us our full salary. I say “miracle” because this man never forgave even the smallest damage to himself, and at that time fifty thousand was a very large sum. And I am deeply confident that this miracle would not have happened if I had forgotten my words, uttered in a moment of fervent prayer, had pity on this money and myself, and scolded my husband for his inattention.
This was a test of our faith, and thank God that He gave us the strength to withstand this test. Blessed be Father Nicholas the Wonderworker! Low bow to him and great gratitude for helping us, sinners and weaklings.
Tatyana Ilyina, St. Petersburg
Patron of our family
Once I bought a tiny icon of St. Nicholas and hung it on the wall. I am a blockade sufferer and my stomach often hurts. At four o’clock in the morning, exhausted from pain, I knelt down and prayed: “If you can hear me, Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker, help me - I have no strength.” The pain that had tormented me for several weeks stopped. Healthy, full of strength, six months later I celebrated my anniversary.
And two years later for my sins - in Lent I went to visit guests, had fun, but got sick again. And again she prayed before the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker: “Help, Father Nicholas! I can’t walk, and I can’t overcome my pain on my own. And then in St. Nicholas Cathedral I will put a candle in front of each icon near which there is a candlestick.”
The pain began to let me go. On the third day I was able to get up and go with my daughter from Sestroretsk, where I live, to St. Petersburg, to St. Nicholas Cathedral. Saint Nicholas helped me there too. I come and see that only expensive candles remain, and there are no candlesticks left. I was afraid that I wouldn’t have enough money. I bought more candles and began to walk around the cathedral and place them in front of the icons. But I feel that my candles will soon run out, and I won’t be able to buy as many of them as I need, I won’t be able to fulfill my promise. Suddenly my daughter calls: “Mom, they brought small inexpensive candles!” That was my joy! I thanked St. Nicholas for the emergency help. I went to the candle maker to buy some candles for home, but they were already gone.
The third time St. helped me in my illness. Nicholas the Wonderworker, when Easter week I turned to him with a fervent prayer: “Heal me for the sake of the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ!”
Saint Nicholas saved me when he accosted me on the street evil person. I was returning from the store, and he grabbed my hand tightly and started saying nasty things. In such cases I always managed to wriggle out, but here I couldn’t, I even cried out of despair. I think he will drag me into a gateway, in broad daylight, and no one will intercede. What a shame in old age! I raised my head to the sky and said: “St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, help me get away from him!” The man let go of his hand, and I ran across the road. I turned around - I felt something was happening to him, and I left quickly.
Larisa, St. Petersburg
At the Cross
I was born into an atheist environment. Family, school, books, television and newspapers completely blocked the path to knowledge of the Truth for our generation. Perestroika and the collapse of old stereotypes led me to a painful search for the meaning of life. Having been demobilized, I discovered that the ideals that seemed clear and unchangeable in the army turned out to be illusory and false in the “civilian” world.
My spiritual wanderings of those times are akin to the searches of many young people: rock music, informal associations, student skits, finally, Freemasonry - thank God, only a pitiful semblance of it - and sectarianism. In the end, I decided to commit suicide. But the Lord saved me. After the hospital, I began to read a lot of Dostoevsky, then Solovyov, Ilyin and, finally, Metropolitan of St. Petersburg and Ladoga John. But main role St. Nicholas played in my church service.
This was in 1991. After graduating from college, I was assigned to a distant taiga town. I had to go through the city Mineral water, and I stopped in Kislovodsk for several days. On the last day of my stay there, I walked aimlessly around the city.
There was some change left in my pocket, and I decided to go to the pastry shop. There was a break. Unexpectedly for myself, I found myself near a small wooden cross, on which hung a sign explaining that St. Nicholas Cathedral would be built on this site. There was a candlestick by the cross. There was a candle holder next to the donation box.
I was about to leave when two women, a mother and daughter, approached the cross, differing from those around them by an inexplicable natural aristocracy. Involuntarily admiring them, I paused at the cross. They slowly bought candles, put their donations into the box and began to pray. It was something incomprehensible to me, and at the same time uniquely beautiful. Tears were streaming down the girl's face. Their prayers were fervent and sincere. I don’t know why, but I wanted to cry too. The soul was filled with a hitherto unknown tenderness. I suddenly felt with all my heart something important, which my restless soul so longed for.
Those women left long ago, their candles burned out long ago, the break in the pastry shop ended long ago, and I still stood and stood at the cross - small, unsightly, which overnight became dear to me. Having pulled out all the change from my pocket, I handed it to the candle maker: “Don’t disdain, mother. This is all I have." She smiled and told a parable about a poor widow and her contribution. Since then, this place in Kislovodsk has been especially sacred to me. Now the walls of a majestic temple have risen there. Every time I approach him with trepidation, as if I were going on a date with the saint himself.
Later St. Nicholas the Wonderworker saved my son. It was to him that I fervently prayed to save the life of the unborn baby. Today it’s hard to imagine what would have happened to me if that summer day God's saint Nikola did not lead me to the small cross, for a moment he opened the cover for me greatest secret of the universe, whose name is Truth.
Oleg Seledtsov, Maykop
Thanks to my mother's faith
Our family comes from the village. Edrovo, Valdai district, Novgorod region. Previously, in the center of the village there were two churches: in honor of the icon of the Mother of God “Joy of All Who Sorrow” and Nikolskaya. We will talk about the second temple.
As a five-year-old girl, my mother, along with other children, frolicked near the church. A thunderstorm was approaching, but everyone laughed: copying the adults, they crossed themselves and fell on their knees. Suddenly there was a strong clap of thunder. Everyone froze, and my mother saw a huge fiery cross above the church. She ran home in confusion. Since then, throughout my long, very difficult life mother honored St. Nicholas the Wonderworker.
She studied at school for only two years: she was sent to be a nanny, then served as a maid in St. Petersburg. I saw the revolution and felt sorry for the young cadets who were grabbed right on the streets and taken away to be shot. She returned to her homeland, got married, and married her husband in St. Nicholas Church. The eldest son, Boris, served in Kronstadt on the destroyer “Strict”. Then he said: “Mom, your prayer always saved me. One day I was on duty with a friend on deck. A shell fell, a comrade died, but I am alive. Bitter for my comrade, happy for myself.”
During the war we were evacuated to Sverdlovsk region. We arrived in a remote village. Early winter morning Mom went to the regional center to look for work. Mother prayed all the way to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker for help. Suddenly a dark spot appeared in the distance. Isn't it a wolf? Coming closer, mom saw unknown man, who told her in detail how to get to the regional center. Thanks to God and St. Nicholas, my mother arrived safely, got a job in a vegetable store and began to bring us delicious vegetables every evening.
After breaking the blockade of Leningrad, we were allowed to return home to Yedrovo. Within two years, our garden was overgrown with weeds. For several days my mother dug it up by hand and did not go to work on the collective farm. For this, an application was filed against her in the people's court. Valdai judge Shtokman slammed her fist on the table: “You are not Soviet, we will evict you!” Mom didn't cry. After the sentence - six months of “forced labor” - she bowed to the meeting and calmly said: “Thank you, good people.”
At home I prayed for a long time and wrote a letter to my son in Kronstadt. At night, my mother had a dream: she was sitting on a collective farm field after harvesting flax and saw the sky opening and the Mother of God moving from the depths with the Baby in her arms, smiling at her. Mom shouted: “Look, Mother of God, look!” But everyone was only surprised, and the vision disappeared. A few days later my brother Boris arrived, went to Valdai and restored justice. The court's verdict was overturned.
So, thanks to my mother’s faith, the Lord protected our family with prayers Holy Mother of God and Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker among many troubles and trials.
My mother went to the Lord on St. Nicholas of the Winter and was buried on the site of the former St. Nicholas Church in the village of Lokotsko, in front of the altar. Next to her grave there is now a chapel where we pray and thank the Lord for everything, as my dear mother thanked Him.
And in the St. Nicholas Church of our native village of Edrovo, a tea house was set up, from which the cleaners ran away at midnight, hearing the ringing of bells and church singing. Now the Moscow-St. Petersburg highway passes in its place.
Zinaida Gadalina, Novgorod region.
“How can we worthily sing of your miracles?”
In 1988 I had seizures severe pain ended up in the hospital. I had a difficult operation ahead of me. My husband was in Nikolskoye cathedral, prayed to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker and St. healer Panteleimon about my recovery. I must say that at that time I was not baptized and rarely went to church, did not understand the services and turned to God only with requests for help. Before the operation, mentally calling out to the Lord Jesus Christ, I promised to be baptized if I remained alive. I asked St. for help. Nicholas the Wonderworker and St. healer Panteleimon. And - lo and behold! The most difficult operation, which lasted about three hours, ended successfully. I recovered without complications. After leaving the hospital, she was baptized in St. Nicholas Cathedral. Glory and thanksgiving to the Lord Jesus Christ, St. Nicholas and St. Panteleimon.
My daughter was very sad about her childlessness. With faith and hope, I again turned to St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. I prayed to him miraculous icon in St. Nicholas Cathedral. And a year later the desired, begged for son and grandson was born. Glory to the Lord in His saints!
The third case of obvious help from St. Nicholas the Pleasant happened to me recently. I love the sea very much, but I was always afraid to swim far. That time the sea was calm, and I, reproaching myself for my indecision, calling on the Guardian Angel for help, swam a long distance. Then it was as if someone ordered me: “Come back!” There was no one around. I slowly swam to the shore.
The tide has begun. The waves pushed me harder and harder towards the shore. I was glad for their “help”. And suddenly, almost at the very shore, they began to cover my head. I didn’t have time to take in air, catch my breath, I couldn’t reach the bottom. I realized: a little more and I’ll drown. Out of fear of dying without confession, without Holy Communion, I began to mentally cry out to the Lord and the Mother of God for help. The waves seemed to cover me less often. Frantically trying to remember the name of the saint who helps at sea, she exclaimed: “Saint Nicholas! Help me, give me the strength to shout for help, calm the waves!” And... I was able to shout and call my daughter. They heard me and helped me. Saved! Everything happened in a matter of minutes. Glory and thanksgiving to the Lord Jesus Christ, the Mother of God, St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, Holy Guardian Angel!
When I feel hard and sad, I pray, read akathists, canons. Thoughts, heart and soul calm down. Joy and strength come to live on.
Tamara, St. Petersburg
The day I was born
I was born on May 22 and had never thought about what a wonderful day it was. I came to the Lord recently, already having a family and two children. I know: I will follow the path of Orthodoxy, and my children will be nearby. I want to tell you about how St. helped me. Nicholas the Wonderworker, having heard my prayers.
IN kindergarten, in the group where I work as a teacher, government money was kept. Somehow I felt very bad. She asked to go home, but before leaving, she decided to hide the money that was lying in plain sight on the bottom shelf, where no one would look. Having removed other things, in serious condition, I barely made it home. She told the shift worker who called where she put the money.
The heart attack put me out of action for a long time. And when I returned to work, I found out that my partner didn’t find the money, and she didn’t look very hard. After crying, tearing out all the closets and turning everything upside down, suspecting one person in my soul, I finally pulled myself together and decided to gradually repay the debt. The money was government money, there was nowhere to go.
A month has passed. With my grief, I went to church, and in confession I told him that I doubted the person. Suddenly it dawned on me! Remembering that on my birthday the memory of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, I came to the Holy Trinity Izmailovsky Cathedral, to the image of the saint. I asked Saint Nicholas to help me remove the pain of suspicion from my soul. I prayed to him: “If there is money in the group, tell me where it is. I don’t want to think badly of people!”
The next day, having again prayed to Saint Nicholas at home, she came to work and immediately, as if by accident, approached to the right place. I've looked for money there before, but maybe not as carefully as I should. She opened the closet, took the folder and immediately saw the lost money in it. I never thought I could put them there! How I rejoiced, apologized to the employees, thanked the Lord and St. Nicholas!
Maybe someone will think that there is nothing surprising in my story, but for me it was a real miracle and deliverance from evil thoughts. And on Trinity Sunday in the church they gave us icons of St. Nicholas. And now I have his icon at home. And in church I always rush to his image, thank him, and ask for his warm intercession before the Lord. My heart opened and turned to St. Nicholas.
Anna Bolachkova, St. Petersburg
At the site of a miraculous phenomenon
On June 11, 1897, a thundercloud swept over the village of Kuyuki, Kazan province, bursting into terrible hail and an unprecedented downpour in these places. The hail was so strong that it destroyed the crops of many farms and injured farmers. The rain blew down gates and fences. When the Kuyukovka peasants left their houses the next day, they were surprised to discover that their dry Kuyukovka river had turned into a rapid stream that had changed its course. Along the banks of the stream, layers of strong rubble stone appeared. The Kuyuk residents really needed it both for construction and for sale. While mining the stone, the peasants found a small chased image of St. Nicholas.
An extraordinary find - a copper image floated on top of the water - made the Kuyukovites think: what to do with the image, where to put it? Before the priest arrived, they built something like a lectern out of stones, covered it with a white tablecloth and placed an image of St. on top. Nicholas the Wonderworker. We lit the lamp. The people went to the holy face, prayed in front of it, leaving their labor pennies on a donation plate. Using these donations, local peasants built a stone church in two years, where they transferred the venerable icon.
The image became famous for many miracles. There were days when up to five thousand pilgrims gathered to venerate St. Nicholas.
Now the church is desolate. But every year on June 25, at the place where the icon was found, where the cross was placed, a prayer service is served with the blessing of water to St. Nicholas. On this day, the priest blesses the lake. People bathe in it, and there are cases of healing from illnesses.
Galina, Kazan
The face of a holy saint
Was at my mother's antique icon St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. When the mother died, the icon also disappeared. They wrapped it in a cloth, put it in a chest, and took it to the closet. There was no one to pray in front of the icon: there was no faith in the soul either in Christ or in the saints.
Time has passed. I was somehow sorting through the things in my chest, and this icon of St. Nicholas caught my eye. I took it in my hands and looked closely - a stern, almost stern face was looking at me. The longer I look, the more I feel great wisdom in this face, as if the saint wants to tell me something very important for my life. My heart suddenly sank and began to speak: some feeling inside me was ashamed. I felt uneasy. How many years has the icon been lying around, and I have never remembered it! I brought it into the room and put it in the corner. No, no, and I’ll look at St. Miracle Worker. Sometimes I cross myself. The soul is callous, unresponsive, empty. No faith, no.
Late one evening I was lying in bed with eyes closed: no sleep, different thoughts are wandering in my head. Suddenly I hear right in my ear: “My daughter!” The words came out clearly and clearly. I didn't attach it special significance. I forgot. Three days have passed. Everything was repeated, only I heard different words: “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” I involuntarily connected these two phrases. I thought about it. What does it mean? Whose voice is this? Undoubtedly: it was from an icon! I realized that Saint Nicholas was waiting for me to turn to him.
What love for a person, what patience! For many years, the saint of God waited for me to finally see clearly and turn to the Lord, to him. I didn’t know the prayers, but as best I could, I asked the saint for forgiveness. Since then, I began to turn to him with faith and reverence. I understood what God, our Savior, means to us. He settled in my heart for the rest of my life. How much I had lost before, how long my sinful soul had longed for communion with God!
I began to join the Church, taught my children to pray and believe in God. It is impossible to convey the feelings that settled in me when, through the Sacraments of the Church, I became connected with the Lord. Now you have the strength to live, believe, love and win. I began to look at everything and everyone with different eyes.
Tamara Ivanova, Saratov
“My faith has become stronger”
When I went into premature labor, I took a prayer book and icons of the Savior, the Most Holy Theotokos and St. with me to the hospital. Nicholas the Wonderworker. I reassured myself only by the fact that my child would not die on the holiday. For almost a week the baby was on the verge of life and death, and all these days I locked myself in my soul, put icons in front of me and prayed, prayed, prayed...
On October 20, a son was born. He started breathing on his own - the doctors said it was a miracle. And he breathed on his own for a day: there was no available artificial respiration apparatus in the hospital. They told me to be ready for anything. And I prayed. Then there were ten days of intensive care, a children's clinic, a brain hemorrhage, weak lungs, low weight... I understood that this was a test given to me by God. My faith has become stronger. My husband believed and was baptized. At the hospital they managed to christen their son with the name Nikolai. Soon the child began to recover and we were discharged.
A month later, an icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, written from the one that is located at the relics of the saint, for the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. Of course, I took my son to her. The child was predicted to have disability and many chronic diseases. But it’s been a year since he’s been alive and well. With unusual trepidation for a baby, he accepts the Holy Gifts. Becomes serious in front of icons.
“To Saint Father Nicholas, pray to God for us!”
Julia, Ekaterinburg
Healing myrrh
When my son was not yet two years old, he had a severe food poisoning. My wife called me at work and said that he was in serious condition. The temperature is high and constantly rising. The doctor will come after lunch, and if before his arrival the child gets worse, you need to call “ Ambulance" I immediately went home. The son lay in his crib, staring blankly at the ceiling, not recognizing anyone. When I touched his head, my heart went cold with fear: the fontanel* was open, like a newborn’s. The wife was in a pre-stressed state, read “Theotokos the Virgin” and trusted only in God.
I threw myself on my knees in the holy corner in front of the icons and began to pray fervently. Then he returned to his son and, placing his hand on his stomach, read “Our Father.” We decided not to call an ambulance. When the doctor arrived, the child felt better and his temperature dropped. The doctor said that there was no need to send my son to the intensive care unit, but to give him medications that he would prescribe. After the doctor left, I prayerfully anointed the boy’s forehead and tummy with oil from the shrine of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker with the addition of peace from his relics. It was Thursday - the day of remembrance of this saint. The son fell asleep. The wife ran to the pharmacy to get some medicine.
An hour later the child woke up. The temperature is normal, there is a smile on the face, the fontanelle is closed. We realized that a miracle had happened. The son recovered without having time to take medication. “Did anyone come to you in a dream?” - I asked. “Yes,” he replied. Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker healed our child.
Sergey, Samara
“Deceiving many from destruction”
When the war began, our family lived in Gatchina. We had to evacuate part of the Putilov plant, where my father worked, to the Urals. Early in the morning we left the house on horseback. In the evening we reached Aleksandrovka, where we were stopped by a military patrol. We were forced to occupy a vacant house on the edge of the village. There was no light. Mom threw some things on the floor and made a bed for us all in the right corner of the hut.
At night an intense raid began: the Germans were rushing to Pulkovo. Our anti-aircraft guns responded. There was a loud roar, everything was on fire, and it was very scary. We huddled together and began to pray: “Lord, help!” When another explosion lit up the room, mom screamed and looked at the corner opposite. There, in a strip of light, the icon of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker was clearly visible. We prayed to him.
When leaving Alexandrovka, my mother took the image with her. He went through the whole war with us, and we had to go through three fascist concentration camps. Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker protected us, and we returned alive.
Nina Sokolova, St. Petersburg
“Warming those who are in the filth”
In 1922, I had to preach in one of the churches behind Taganka, not far from the Rogozhskoye cemetery. He talked about St. Nicholas the Wonderworker and how many miracles he performed and what a quick listener he is.
I agreed. P-kiy and his wife lived not far from the temple. They were childless; It was clear from the situation and things that they had previously had good means.
This is what the hospitable host told me: “My father lived in a small provincial town in the Voronezh province. He was engaged in small trade, buying hemp, flax, leather, etc. from the villages. We lived poorly; my father had a large family.
One day in December, when I was ten years old, my father decided to take me with him, heading to villages located twenty-five miles from the city to buy goods. We had an old horse and a very light sled. It was a beautiful winter day. The sun was already warm, the road was good, and we didn’t notice how we had driven more than ten miles away from the city. The terrain there is steppe, and we didn’t come across a single village along the way.
Suddenly the wind changed, clouds rolled in and it began to rain. The road turned black. Soon all our clothes were wet, and water began to flow under our collars. Also suddenly the wind switched to the north, frost struck and a blizzard began to roar all around. A snowstorm in that area is a very dangerous thing, and my father, worried, began to urge the horse, which had difficulty moving along the snow-covered road. The storm was getting stronger. Our wet clothes froze, and we began to suffer from the cold wind that penetrated through our clothes all the way to our bodies. The horse slowed down and finally stood up. Suddenly we felt somehow warm and pleasant, and we began to doze off. Finally I fell asleep.
Suddenly I saw in the distance some luminous point that was quickly approaching, increasing in volume and gradually taking the form of a light oval, on which the face of an elderly man with a short beard and dark hair, but gray at the ends, soon appeared.
This man looked at me menacingly and said: “Vasya, wake up your father.” I tried to get up to do this, but all my limbs refused to obey me, and I could not move. Then the elder shouted loudly: “Vasily, they are telling you! Wake up your father, you’re freezing!” I again tried to get up and wake my father - but again without success. And suddenly I noticed that my hand was lying on my father’s hand. Then I pressed it with all my might with my nails through the mitten.
My father woke up, and at that moment a dog barked not far from us. Then he stood up, crossed himself and said: “Thank God, we are saved!” Then he got out of the sleigh and went barking, not paying attention to the snowstorm.
Soon we came across a fence. The dog barked louder. Walking along the fence, the father came to the hut of a nobleman who lived here on his own plot of land. When he responded to the knock, his father explained to him that we had lost our way and were already starting to freeze.
Within five minutes I found myself in a hotly heated hut, where they rubbed me with warm vodka and laid me, wrapped in a sheepskin coat, on the stove. The samovar arrived in time. They gave me tea and I fell asleep like the dead. The next day we got up late, but completely healthy and decided to return home.
I somehow completely forgot about the vision, thinking it was a dream, and didn’t tell anyone anything.
On the first of January, my mother says to me: “You, Vasya, today is your birthday. Let’s go to mass: you will confess and partake of the Holy Mysteries.” When the service ended, my mother lingered in the church, not finding her memorial anywhere. While she was looking for her, I began to wander around the temple and suddenly, to my amazement, I saw on the right pillar supporting the dome an image of the old man who appeared to me when my father and I were freezing during our unsuccessful trip. It struck me so much that I could not take my eyes off this image, written directly on the plastered wall.
By the way, the artist depicted something that cannot be: the old man has dark hair on his head, and its ends are gray. This is how I saw the old man when I was freezing. The elder was depicted in full height against a light background of an oval-shaped medallion, wearing a cross-shaped phelonion, as I saw him.
My mother started calling me home. I, excited, began making signs for her to come to me. Then I told her about what happened to me when we were caught in the field by a snowstorm.
The story made a strong impression on my mother. She told me: “This is an image of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. He saved your and your father’s life.” She immediately asked to call a priest from the altar, to whom she conveyed my story and asked to serve thanksgiving prayer with an akathist to St. Nicholas.
Saint Nicholas saved my life many, many years later, when I was already living in Moscow and had a fairly well-known enterprise in the city, sometimes successfully competing with Mendl. This was in 1920.
It was a hungry time. It was possible to purchase anything edible in the village only in exchange for some things, valuable items, clothes or shoes. At the same time, the peasants valued all this very cheaply, and the supplies they sold, on the contrary, were very expensive.
In January or February, taking with me pieces of calico, some clothes and similar items for exchange, I went by rail to the Tula province, to an area well known to me, where I knew several wealthy peasants. Getting off the train at one of the stations outside Tula, I came to a neighboring village where a peasant I knew lived. I told him about the purpose for which I had come and asked to borrow a horse to go to one nearby village, where, in response to my request, they promised to give me three bags of potatoes in exchange for textiles and clothing.
They gave me a horse, and the next day I went to this village. There I quite successfully exchanged chintz and a three-piece jacket for potatoes and, after resting a little, set off on the way back. Halfway through the route I was following, I had to go uphill. The road was lined with birch trees on both sides, and I couldn’t see what was happening behind the trees.
Suddenly, around the bend, a huge convoy appeared, carrying some goods from the railway station. Recently there had been a lot of snow and the road was very narrow. Wanting to give way to the convoy, I turned the horse to the left and began to make my way closer to the birches, when suddenly, not noticing the slope, I felt that the sleigh first tilted and then fell down, dragging the horse with it.
I found myself in a ravine filled with loose snow, under an overturned sleigh. The horse was lying on its side, leaning on the shaft. All the horse's attempts to get up failed because loose snow It was very deep, and she did not have the opportunity to firmly rest her feet on the soil. For the same reason, even though I had difficulty freeing my head from under the sleigh, I was unable to throw off the sleigh and get to my feet. My feet, finding no support, slid helplessly and got stuck in the snow, loose as sand.
While I was floundering like this, the wind changed to the north, and the frost began to noticeably intensify. I felt very cold, although at first, when I was still trying to get to my feet, I even began to sweat from the efforts I made. The horse lay obediently.
Suddenly I felt the same as twenty-five years ago, when I almost froze to death with my late father. My trembling went away, a pleasant warmth spread through my body, and to the sound of the tall fir trees swaying in the wind, I began to feel sleepy. I again began to make desperate movements, trying to get to my feet, but only sank deeper into the snow. Then I raised a loud cry. I screamed so loudly that my voice could probably be heard at a great distance. Soon, above my head, on the high slope where the road passed, I heard the creaking of runners and the voices of passing people. I screamed even louder.
The creaking of the runners stopped, and soon I began to hear two people with the greatest work making their way towards me, talking to each other. Finally they noticed me. They approached, looked sympathetically, and attempted to raise the horse, trampling the snow around the sleigh. But they failed to do anything, and they left, shouting to me: “There are four of us in the sledge. All the same, dear man, we can’t take you with us, and we don’t know where to take the horse. We are not from here, from afar. Shout, maybe the people here will hear and help you. Goodbye!” Then they left.
The wind picked up and it began to snow. Soon there was a whirl and noise all around: the wind was carrying whole clouds of dry snow. I realized that I was dying.
Then I remembered how St. helped me in childhood, when I was in the same trouble. Nicholas the Wonderworker. And, lying in a ravine, covered with snow, I turned to the great saint with a fervent prayer for salvation.
I remember,” P. continued his story, “that I prayed with tears, like a child, putting together my appeal to St. as best I could. Nicholas: “God's servant! You saved my life when I died as a child with my father, freezing in the steppe twenty-five years ago. Have mercy and now, with your holy prayers, save my life, do not let me die without repentance in a foreign land. You are quick to help those who call you in faith. Save me, I’m dying!”
I had barely finished the prayer when I heard the creaking of runners and people talking above me. It was clear that a large convoy was moving. I screamed as loud as I could. The creaking of the runners stopped. The convoy stopped, and I saw several peasants who, having rolled down the slope, were walking towards me, falling almost waist-deep into loose snow. There were four or five of them. With difficulty they lifted me and the horse and, taking it by the bridle, led us out onto a side road, along which I climbed back up to the main road.
Three quarters of an hour later I was already at the acquaintance’s who had lent me a horse, who, seeing that she had risen strong blizzard and it became dark, I began to worry about me.
I warmly thanked the Lord God and St. Nicholas the Wonderworker for saving my life again,” he finished the story, adding that from that time on he began to especially reverence this great saint of God.
“Here,” added P., “they say that miracles do not happen, but I believe that the Lord saved me through the prayers of St. Nicholas."
His story could not help but make a deep impression on me.
Archpriest Konstantin Rovinsky From the book “Conversations of an Old Priest” M., 1995
New miracles of St. Nicholas. M., 2000
At that time I myself was not a churchgoer and not even baptized. And he confused Nicholas the Wonderworker with Stephen of Great Perm. But even so, I and many of my friends, far from the Church, noted that this saint saved people.
TV report from local TV "Rifey":
r.B. Christina
“I, an ordinary girl, dreamed of simple female happiness”
I am an ordinary girl, I dreamed of simple female happiness, but my personal life did not work out. I waited, asked in prayers, but, as they say, everything has its time. Years passed, but there was still no happiness. I would like to note that I am a pretty girl, I had a lot of fans, but I couldn’t imagine a relationship without love. I met a lot of good guys, but “not my thing,” and that’s all.
I started building a career, traveling, seeing the world. And this geographical “gourmetism” became for me a kind of substitute for personal life.
One day I came to the temple and began to ask: help, Saint Nicholas... A few weeks later I met a man with whom I had never even thought of becoming acquainted, he was too “mine” in terms of worldview and type. We really liked each other, started dating... And then the difficulties began. I won’t describe the details, but the relationship was stuck at one stage, the candy-bouquet period was over, and it was necessary to decide where to go next. Even though I am a believer, I was tired of loneliness and made concessions: we began to live together. I can’t describe the feeling, I was brought up in strict traditions, plus the Lord did not leave me without admonition: health problems began. And then I again turned to Saint Nicholas with a fervent prayer: I asked for a blessing, if this is my man, to unite us in marriage, and if not mine, then let him leave my life. I prayed almost every day while my beloved was away. And, you won’t believe it, my beloved comes and proposes to me! That same evening we go shopping for rings. Nikola helped us so much that we bypassed the queues at the registry office, we got the day of registration on the great Orthodox holiday of Faith, Hope and Love, everything went like clockwork (those who got married know what a troublesome business this is - a wedding).
Many miracles were connected in my life with St. Nicholas the Wonderworker. For example, when I lost my job, I always turned to St. with prayers. Nikolai. And soon I found a new job, which always not only corresponded to my specialty, brought good earnings, but also helped me gain interesting experience.
I could talk for a long time about the help that I received at different times through prayers to St. Nicholas. But I want to say the main thing - we must remember that we must help our loved ones and those in need in difficult moments of life. This is precisely what my experience of prayerful communication with the great saint of God, St. Nicholas the Wonderworker, and this is exactly what the Lord expects from us...
Eduard Kichigin
“I asked St. Nicholas for help in finding a job”
Six months ago I was going through an extremely difficult period in my life, and one day I was standing at an evening service in St. Nicholas Cathedral, praying, my soul was painful and heavy, but by the end of the service I felt some kind of consolation and even joy. I won’t say anything about what I prayed for, but in addition to the main thing, I asked St. Nicholas for help in finding a job. After the service I walked home in the rain, and there was such joy in my soul, flying - “Virgin Mother of God, rejoice!” I sang to myself and aloud a little.
I came home and an old friend immediately called me with an offer of a very good job, extremely interesting, useful and promising for me. In order to discuss everything and get my consent, he, despite being extremely busy and worried, came to me that same evening. I got the job, it was difficult, but extremely interesting and useful. I promised Saint Nicholas that from my first salary I would light candles for all the icons in St. Nicholas Cathedral.
But in the end, everything got so twisted, both with this work and in general, that he fulfilled his promise only halfway and not on time - he only placed candles in one of the churches of the cathedral, and there were two of them, on both floors. Now I don’t understand what was stopping me. And frankly speaking, I didn’t live in the most correct way at that time. Things went badly, in general, in the end, I made the second part of my promise to St. Nicholas from my last salary six months later, after my dismissal. Here's the story.
Suzanna Farizova
"I was waiting for you with this finger"
I went to Bari, working at the Kommersant newspaper, in the then presidential pool. She left in a hurry, having spent Maslenitsa visiting on a grand scale the day before.
I was constantly in the way of my bag, the keys in my hands, the door.
It was with this front door that I ended up hitting my finger when I couldn’t handle my keys and bag. Hit hard.
I had no time. I flew away. In Bari, the finger became swollen, blackened and began to hurt. At first - barely. Then stronger and stronger. But I had to work, and I tried not to think that it hurt.
The program included a visit to the Basilica. The same one where the relics of St. Nicholas lie. They rest behind bars - heavy ones - which are opened on major holidays. I kissed the bars and asked for some global things for myself and my family. And at the end she asked for the finger to go through.
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