This story happened with my friend Tatiana fifteen years ago. A woman, a chemist, had come to the USA with her daughter on business. Both of them were only making their first steps in the Church and had recently been baptized. They related to everything about church services, prayers, Confession and Communion reverently and seriously. Their story once again shows the mercy of the Lord and the power of prayer.
A wasps’ nest
Ruslana (Sophia in baptism) and I went to enjoy nature in Maryland. We parked the car and went for a walk. We admired the views and loved being in the grassy glade, at the meadow, and walking along the river. We imagined the animals that could live in these places, whether they saw us now, or if they were afraid of us. After some time, we came to a small “island.” All was quiet and calm. We refreshed ourselves in the river, not so much by swimming as mostly splashing around. We decided to rest a bit and have a snack.
Sonya, only ten at the time, active and nimble, would climb into a large tree hollow one second and “dive” into some dense bushes the next. She was always quick, athletic and inquisitive. Suddenly, I heard her screaming and crying, I was afraid, thinking she might have fallen down, or a snake bit her. It turned out that Sonya had found and disturbed a wasps’ nest. Several wasps immediately stung her in the head and arm. That it was very painful was only half of the trouble. What was worse that my daughter began to swell right before my eyes, and her arms, legs, and face grew enormously big. Even though she had never had any allergies before, I knew that insect bites could cause such reaction. We had no treatment with us. My hands were trembling, my heart was pounding… I grabbed my phone—the battery was dead. Our car was far away, there was no one around, nowhere to call for help.
I grab my phone, the battery’s dead, and our car’s far away. No one around, nowhere to call for help
I knew that with swelling spreading so fast, she would soon be unable to breathe. This swelling would block her throat, nasal passage, all breathing passages. I felt sick myself, unable to breathe, like some heavy stone was crushing my chest.
Sonya’s large, beautiful eyes turned into narrow cracks. She kept crying, totally helpless and small. I felt painfully sorry and scared for her. What if I lose her right there, so stupidly, so absurdly? Sonya shows her palm. For her tenth birthday, someone brought her a silver ring with tiny amethysts from Russia, with the prayer, “Save and Protect,” stamped along the edge. The ring cut deep into her finger, she couldn’t remove or move it, it painfully pinched her. You’d be surprised, but the ring that pinched Sonya’s finger brought me back to my senses and reminded of the brief prayer, “Save and Protect.” I stopped panicking, stopped walking aimlessly back and forth, raising and lowering my arms, but instead crossed myself and began to pray.
The Lord is merciful. Mind you, both my daughter and I had only recently been baptized, we were both taking our first steps in the Orthodox Church, learning how to pray, and had only confessed and communed a few times. But I kept tearfully repeating out loud:
“Lord, save and protect! Lord, save us sinners! Help my daughter, save her from severe allergy shock and suffocation!”
The woman turned out to be a pediatrician. I didn't have to explain anything to her, she simply looked at Sonya—and immediately realized what the matter was.
Suddenly, a paddleboat with two children and their parents moored to our little “island.” I called for help, asking them to call the emergency service. As it turned out later, they were a Russian family that enjoyed outdoor activities. The woman turned out to be a pediatrician. I didn’t have to explain anything to her, as she just looked at Sonya—and immediately realized what the matter was and that time was running out for her. The doctor confidently examined my daughter, took some antihistamine from her first-aid kit, and led my girl to sit in the shade. The youngest child in their family had allergies, so they had allergy medicine with them at all times.
Everything worked out miraculously; the medicine worked quickly—first the swelling stopped spreading, and then gradually, everything began to return to normal, except for her eyes, which remained swollen the longest.
The pediatrician said that despite the effect of the medicine and the fact the child was obviously feeling better, we still had to drive to the emergency room without delay. Allergies are no joke and the reaction could quickly subside only to return a few hours later, and this time it wouldn’t be just edema.
I used the doctor’s phone to call the emergency service and they asked me detailed questions about the girl's condition and how exactly the reaction went. Then, the pediatrician took the phone and used “medical" language to explain it all to the emergency service employee. We decided that the fastest way for us would be to drive to the nearest hospital ourselves.
I felt greatly disturbed and couldn’t gather my thoughts, but no wonder—I had nearly lost my daughter, but the Lord stretched out His helping hand. I needed some time to process it all.
Our new acquaintance helped me to map the road to the hospital and added the route to the navigator (the emergency operator had previously dictated the address of the hospital). The Russian doctor explained what I was to say in the emergency room, to name the medicine and the dosage given. Her husband walked us to the car.
I crossed myself, crossed my daughter, and sat behind the wheel. We arrived quickly. The hospital had us jump the queue—the emergency operator had informed them, and they were already expecting us. They wrote down the details of the incident according to my statement, asked about valid vaccinations, any food, pollen, or medicine allergies, and whether she had any similar cases of edema or anaphylactic shock before. They took a blood sample and even gave me a sedative, because I was profoundly disturbed, constantly replaying all these events in my mind, thinking about what could have happened if we had been left without first aid, and if the Lord had not sent us that family.
The doctor on duty said that we were really lucky; the girl was in very good health and physically strong. Several bites to the head was no small thing, and someone without such an iron frame could have died, but we were able to hold out for ten minutes before taking the medicine. Then the doctor thought to herself for a minute and said with a smile: “Or, it’s because you are loved very much up “There” and someone prays for you.” She pointed her index finger up while saying the word, “There.” And she said this without any humor or sarcasm, in a kind way. The doctor could see how pale and frightened I was.
She prescribed us antihistamines, some ointment to relieve the burning and itching, advised us to remain in the shade for several days, staying out of the open sun, and to rest more. And to make sure to visit our regular doctor.
The following Sunday we were in the St. Nicholas the Wonderworker Church in Washington and shared everything with the priest. He thanked the Lord for His mercy, prayed with us for Sophia’s health, and prayed for that family, which had arrived just in time.
Even before this incident, I never doubted the mercy of the Lord and the help of the saints, but it was a knowledge based on books and stories. Probably like any other neophyte, I was worried whether or not our prayers were heard, or if we prayed the right way. But now I understood that the phrase, “we are not alone, the Lord is always with us,” weren’t simply some fine words, but the outright truth; that all of us are Christ’s children, and the Lord loves us. Every man is important to Him. Our lives are in the hands of the Lord. I am grateful to those who introduced me to the Orthodox faith and helped me to come to the church. I am grateful to the Lord, the Most Pure Mother of God and all the saints that in the hour of danger they gave us support, saved my daughter, and heard my prayer.
