While Olga was fretting and feeling upset, Fr. Boris found his wallet, took all the money he had and handed it to her. Then, he emptied a donation box and handed its contents to her as well. Had he been an elder, he’d have prayed and all the money she needed would have materialized out of thin air!
“I am sorry, but what was that all about? Why did you chase her away?” I asked her using my sweetest voice—just in case, so I wouldn’t be next to be carried outside. “Well, I happened to have trouble in the past. After that, every time I hear about “grace-filled elders,” I am on the verge of committing homicide…” That’s how I met Olga.