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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 103-104 | volume  | December, 2015



                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 103-104December, 2015

Remnants of a Sky


p. 1
Vlado Maleski


Remnants of a Sky

    Translated by: Kalina Maleska  
    At the end of the year I finished with excellent grades. The rector said that the Archbishop gave his consent for me to go to the university. I, therefore, returned to Mala Bogorodica in the summer. To wait for the autumn in prayers and fasting. I felt as a drifted sheep among my brethren, a bit said for I did not have the support of Father Aleksej. My days passed by somehow with the hymns and psalms, and I began, though it was indeed difficult, to find meaning in the monastic life. Father Aleksej went where the sun rises, and it seemed to me that he took forever with himself the former Naum Furnadziev, and, as a substitute, he left to Inokentie the toll of the bells and the love towards the serenity with which he will defeat (he must defeat!) the shrewdest lusts of earthly life (the first one was already defeated in front of the iron gate of the seminary – “Share the bed with a woman!”). A bud of happiness, sensed long ago, grew inside me. It was, in the same time, a sign that I found the meaning of my monastic life.
    But one day…
    … It was Sunday, a Sunday in August. With beads in my hands, on whose ambers I counted my prayers (a present from Aleksej), I would go with my older brethren to a liturgy. On the other side of the monastery gate, belching of the bells of a carriage horse was heard. Abbot Irinej ordered to me:
    “Brother Inokentie, open the gate!”
    I opened the two large iron gates with difficulty and I made way for the carriage. I saw inside (of course I saw, it passed right in front of my nose!) three children, three children and one woman, and another woman in yellow linen dress with black dots. She seemed to look at me in surprise, smiled at me and I heard, as the carriage passed:
    “Thank you, Father.”
    Her voice enthralled me:
    “Oh, Krisula, what a young monk!”
    And I heard the merry laughter of the one called Krisula:
    “Well, Marika, there are young and old.”
    “Lord, absolve us of our sins…” I murmured and ran towards my room. But Abbot Irinej stopped me.
    “Take the ladies to our supporters and donors, the Mitracevi brothers, in the room next to the Bishop’s…” And accelerated his step, and stoked his

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