An unusual story of God’s help on the feast of the Baptism of the Lord once made a deep impression on me. It is a story about Divine Providence, which protects us so wonderfully throughout our lives. With the consent of the author, Hieromonk Paisiy, I have decided to write down this account.
Photo: severdv.ru
Once, over twenty years ago, an ordinary little mouse saved my life on the feast of Holy Theophany. It happened in 2004. I was a college art student at the time, and after classes I taught drawing to children at a local cultural center. It was January 18, the Eve of Theophany, and I was eager to go at midnight to the night service at St. Catherine’s Convent of the city of Tver.1
It is situated in an ancient area at the confluence of the two main rivers of Tver: the Volga and the Tvertsa, and was named after the holy Great Martyr Catherine, to whom the main altar of the convent’s church is dedicated. Long night services with the Blessing of the Waters were performed at the convent on Theophany. I remembered how in the previous year I had helped the sisters fill canisters with water and carry them on a sled for blessing, and the good-natured sisters had told me, a student, about the Orthodox faith.
When I returned to the dormatory in the evening, I felt very exhausted. It had been a hard day: a very early wake-up, a day of painting classes, and then lessons for children. The cultural center was located in Litvinki—a remote area of the city. I was worn-out that day, but I was so keen to go to the night service at the convent, where the ceremonious, touching singing created the special, solemn atmosphere of a truly divine feast.
It was late, and public transport had stopped. I reckoned that if I walked along Ordzhonikidze Street towards the quay, I could then find myself in front of the convent. And I thought that in order not to make a big detour across two bridges, it would be much closer to cross the Volga over the ice (which is usually thick there during the severe Theophany frosts). I reckoned that if I walked straight from the quay on the ice, I would get right to the convent.
I put on a warm sweatshirt, a jacket, a hat, and boots and sat down on the bed for a moment. “I’ll rest for five minutes before leaving,” I thought. I looked at my clock in front of me and estimated that by taking a shortcut I would make it to the very beginning of the service. Fatigue weighed on my shoulders, and my head felt a little heavy. I thought: “No, I’ll sit for another five minutes, relax, gather my strength and set off. And there, in the cold, I’ll perk up.” And just as I decided to stand up, I heard some rustling from behind the bookcase. I looked closely and saw a little mouse crawling out from under the bookcase. It may have decided that there was nobody in the room, because I was sitting still and motionless. But it came out very boldly and didn’t notice me gazing directly at it.
The mouse started behaving in a very interesting way, as if it were glad that I was gone. I had never seen mice behave like that before! It stood up on its hind legs and looked around. Then the little creature began to wash its face and at the same time scratch the back of its head with its paw, as if wondering where to start examining the cupboard. I was admiring it. The mouse was acting in a very lively way, like a cartoon character. It turned its head round and round busily, just like a human, as if musing in its mind on what it ought to do. And when it finally saw me, it nevertheless didn’t get scared and didn’t run away. It looked with its mouth slightly open and continued the “performance”. I don’t remember what gestures it was making with its paws, but I remember that it was so funny and weird that I rested my elbow on the pillow for ease of observation. Maybe it was fatigue, or maybe I felt sleepy, because I was sitting dressed in a jacket and a hat, but I didn’t even notice how my eyes began to close, my head became cloudy, and I dozed off.
I woke up at two in the morning. It was too late to go to the service, and I was very frustrated that on that Theophany night I hadn’t managed to go to the convent.
And the next morning I learned that two fishermen had drowned in the very place where I had intended to cross the ice to shorten the way to the convent. The Tvertsa River that flows into the Volga and skirts St. Catherine’s Convent had washed away the thickness of the ice and made it fragile. Apparently, the Theophany frost was not so strong that year of 2004.
When I learned about that, I remembered the mouse that had distracted me from going outside. And I became filled with gratitude to God for sending me, by His great Providence, that little mouse to prevent me from leaving at the very last moment and thereby to save me from drowning in an icy river.
I thank the Lord Jesus Christ for saving my life!
