Icon
I then served in the army, was going on a business trip, where – we don’t They said, but before that they allowed relatives to visit. And then mother in front of leaving, he sticks to me an icon, such a tiny one, on a rope, and a cross. I am a communist. I put the icon on the table, I say – that you invented, take your “legends” …
A photo from open sources
I’m arriving at the unit, and they just reported: we’re flying to Afghanistan. AND something suddenly jerked me, wrote to my mother, they say, came what gave before leaving. And literally the day before our departure I get envelope, and in the envelope an icon wrapped in a piece of paper on which the text of the prayer and the inscription: “Read three times every day.” I still grinned – as a recipe, by golly – three times before eating!
Well … What is Afghanistan, you don’t need to tell anyone, on it many were burned, starting with the British; remember Kipling: “West there is west, east is east, and they will never converge … ”
Once dropped me off with a group of eight people to mine in mountains object. And dushmans the helicopter on which they delivered us, obviously spotted. Well, they took us into circulation. Narrow gorge, helicopter do not fly under fire, there is no road for armored personnel carriers, we have local paths they didn’t know, and the map in these parts is not an assistant. However under fire somehow bypass spurs we are moving towards our own.
The products ran out, found a fallen camel, with a reserve already, I had to eat … In the morning, dew was licked from the rocks. And now another at night we went out into an unfamiliar gorge. Completely lost orientation alien stars – you won’t decide where to go – it’s not clear. Here one of mine said: here we all lie!
I look ahead, against the background of light gray rocks a black shadow human, only high – two times higher than an ordinary person. I’m showing the guys to her, but they don’t see, they say it’s from you hunger seems. And the shadow is waving at me, go, they say, follow me. I mechanically I felt the mother’s icon on my chest and suddenly believed, yes and what did we lose. I led the guys behind this shadow. Walked for some stone labyrinth, climbed into such bottlenecks that with do not squeeze with a bag and machine. The guys started to grumble: Susanin, you get …
Absolutely exhausted – lie down and die! It began to grow light the mountains are beautiful, golden, the sky is pink with blue … And the shadow has disappeared! What to do? We climbed to the nearest peak to look around, and below, right below us – the Soviet checkpoint! Well, we rushed from the last forces, and from the post they shout: “Stand, we will shoot!” Painfully cut off we are these days … I am now this icon more than the gold of the shore, die I will bequeath to her son …
Old man on the road
And this story with Vasily Stepanovich happened, to my friends. Here is how it was. He returned from the front to our village Kremenki, put him to the car – the chairman of the collective farm to carry. Good job the car is small, which are now called jeeps … “Veles”, or Willis … Yes, Willis, an American car. And they pay well, and it’s not difficult, and you can always ask the chairman what. By more party. Well, the year works, another. And everything’s good.
Once in the winter, the chairman was summoned at night-midnight to the area. Then it was like that — the party leaders and those who worked day and night; will cause and you’ll go … Well, they went, and on the way back the chairman decided to drop by the farm to the beekeeper, honey, or something, to take propolis. But they couldn’t – the road was very covered with snow. Well, we decided come back straight so as not to circle. They’re coming, but there’s a blizzard stronger and stronger, a real blizzard broke out.
And now it’s dark, the road has disappeared, gasoline is ending, the chairman is on Vasily yells, where, they say, you brought me! Although he himself ordered this dear go. They were very scared. Basil is what the party’s mutters himself: “Lord, just take it out, don’t let it stiffen in the field wolves to eat, the icons from the closet back to the hut I will return, a candle in I’ll put the church … ”
Here they stand in the middle of a snowstorm, what to do – they don’t know, the cold is up to bones, gasoline is about to end, and that’s it … They look, they come out of Burana old man. Old, hunched over, so small. And where come from ?! And he comes up, smiles and says:
– What, got lost? Well, follow me slowly, I’m at least Kremenki was not going to, I don’t like them, but I’ll bring you out … – And went ahead.
Vasily, let’s steer him right across the field, the snow is deep, potholes, but nothing – never got stuck. Already like gasoline it should end, and the car goes on. They got out, got out, and suddenly the chairman shouts:
– Look, our church!
Indeed, the village seemed to be from the snowstorm, and the snowstorm seemed to have subsided. Vasily “Willis” stopped to thank the old man, and him and not. There, here – no … And the chairman also says:
– A strange old man, a stranger, not one of ours, suspicious. Just in case, the competent authorities to report…
Well, Vasily Stepanovich took the chairman home – and to church. Comes in, but does not know how and what, an unbeliever, after all; well, to the priest approached, told everything, I want, said, the most expensive candle to deliver. I don’t know where. Father gave him a candle and led to big old icon. Vasily looked at the icon, turned pale, but how scream:
– It’s him! – Who is he? – even the father was frightened. – Yes the old man who brought us out of the snowstorm! Like he is! How alive!
Then the priest is on his knees in front of the icon – bang! And let’s pray. AND Basil was on his knees, only he did not know the prayers and was simply baptized.
A photo from open sources
Well, the next day, all Kremenki about this incident buzzed. The chairman also went into the temple, looked at the icon, stained covered with red, silently left. And after a while the church ours was closed. No matter how people fight, it is useless. Good at least not demolished … The chairman, however, also did not work long here; felt the people squint at him, soon to another place transferred.
But Vasily stayed, of course. He didn’t leave the party, as he says, I I’ll leave the party if I got a party ticket near Moscow at forty the first one. But the icon of Seraphim of Sarov in his hut has always been since hung.
Fortune telling by the Caribbean
This happened to Russian tourists in the Caribbean. Into the dead they stopped by a village on the west coast; driver “Pegaso”, the first to travel this route, made a mistake by turning. But already once we stopped, we decided to stop, especially since we drove a long time, and it’s lunch time. The driver, stewardess and guide began prepare a picnic, and the tourists scattered around the village.
A photo from open sources
Light surf of the Caribbean, white sand with blackened fragments of a discarded tree here and there, holey fishing shacks under palm roofs, skinny naked black dogs, similar on piglets, and the same skinny pigs, like stray dogs, vultures with plucked necks on tall trees at the edge of the village – exotic …
To the three tourists farthest away from the sparkling bus and folding tables with snacks, a villager approached. He spoke, smiling – white teeth on a black face. Of the three, one— Anatoly Sergeevich – knew English. Local in English too somehow explained. The local spoke, Anatoly Sergeyevich translated:
– Guys, he says that a real sorcerer lives in that grove voodoo. Says that for five pesos you can get a prediction on further life. Go, he says, three minutes.
Tourists looked at each other. Two that didn’t know English, smiled. One Vasily is incredulous. By profession a journalist, he accustomed himself to skepticism and naturally spoke of the words about voodoo skeptical. But his friend Sasha is a romantic soul, despite on economic education and boring accounting activities in a small enterprise in the provincial Voronezh, – caught fire.
Anatoly Sergeyevich shrugged: “Why not go?” I actually thought that in Voodoo in Cuba there wasn’t any left after the revolution … – All three heard something about the strange and little-known voodoo religion. Something about zombies, with predicted or assigned death, with the providence of the future. Nonsense, of course, but why not to inquire; because they went to Cuba for exotic.
The village guide really brought them in a few minutes to a small hut deep in a palm grove. They were not allowed inside. A small skinny old Negro came out of the dark hut, looked at queues for all three, took Sasha’s hand and led under the palm canopy behind the hut. They sat down on hard mats, the old man took Sasha’s hands and looking into his eyes and swaying measuredly, something muffled, muffled with a howl.
They sat like this for about five minutes, but then Sasha told me that he it seemed as if almost half a day had passed. Then the old man called escorted from the village and Anatoly Sergeyevich. He said, the guide translated, and his words, in turn, translated Anatoly Sergeevich. According to the old man, it turned out complete nonsense. It seems to be how Sasha will become very, very rich and influential man, he will have everything – a lot of money, a huge house, beautiful wife, almost a personal plane. Anatoly Sergeevich even Cheered while translating. All this reminded him of fortune telling. gypsy woman at the train station.
Then they returned to the shore, where the random one was already having fun a picnic, and told others about their adventure, of course, embellished and added romantic details. All right there wanted to go to the sorcerer, but ideologically seasoned guide categorically objected, and to go to the hotel was still decent, and the sun was already dropping over the shaggy heads of the coastal palms …
Three Russian tourists recalled their adventure through the years fifteen when Sasha became one of the first wealthy people on the ruins of the Soviet Union. Solid economic education and obvious accounting talent suddenly turned out to be great – far greater, than journalism, an advantage. Sasha became a real oligarch, and he really had everything. He was even going to ride again Cuba and find that voodoo sorcerer who predicted him such happiness.
Anatoly Sergeyevich retired. On TV he is somewhat once saw Sasha and knew how he took off. But one thing tormented him circumstance. He translated the words of the old voodoo then to Sasha. the end – did not want to spoil the mood and impression of a generous predictions. The old man predicted a tourist from the Soviet Union wealth. And I was not mistaken. But the sorcerer also predicted that, having become rich, Sasha will die at the hands of an evil unknown, from a bullet that hits him right in the heart!
In general, the sorcerer was not mistaken in this …
Alexander Lomtev
Drivers USSR Time �
