Sister Pelagia and the Black Monk Read Free

the righteous.
The Life omits any mention of how Basilisk's successors came to learn about the Miracle of the Finger if the hermit maintained such a rigorous silence, but let us be indulgent toward ancient tradition. We can also make a concession to the skepticism of a rationalistic age, and accept that the holy founder of the hermitage did not reach the islands by walking miraculously across the water, but on some kind of raft or, say, in a hollowed-out log—let it be so. But here is a fact that is indisputable, attested to by many generations, and can even, if you so wish, be confirmed by documentary evidence: none of the ascetics who have settled in the underground cells of Basilisk's Hermitage have ever waited long for God to summon them to Himself. After six months, a year, or at the most a year and a half, all of the select few thirsting for salvation have achieved their hearts desire and, leaving behind a small heap of dusty bones, have soared aloft from the kingdom of earth to that other, Heavenly Kingdom. And it is not at all a matter of a meager diet or the severity of the climate. There are, after all, many other hermitages where the hermits have performed even greater feats of asceticism and mortified the flesh more fervently, but God has been less quick to grant them His pardon and take them to Himself.
And so the rumor spread that of all places on earth, Basilisk's Hermitage is the very closest to God, located on the very outskirts of the Kingdom of Heaven—which is the reason for its other name, Outskirts Island. On visiting the archipelago for the first time, some people used to think the island was given that name because of its closeness to Canaan, where all the churches stand and the archimandrite lives. But this little island was not close to the archimandrite—it was close to God.
The hermitage has always been inhabited by three especially distinguished monks, and there has never been any greater honor for the monks of New Ararat than to complete their earthly journey in the caves there, on the bones of the righteous men who have preceded them.
Of course, not all of the brotherhood have always thirsted fervently after a rapid ascent to that Other Kingdom, because even among monks there are many to whom the earthly life appears more attractive than the next one. Nonetheless, there has never been any shortage of volunteers; on the contrary, there has always been a long queue of avid applicants, and just as there must be in any queue, there have been quarrels, disputes, and serious intrigues, so impatient have certain monks been to cross as soon as possible the narrow channel that separates Canaan from Outskirts Island.
One of the three ascetics was regarded as senior and given the rank of abbot. He was the only one whom the hermitage rules permitted to open his mouth and speak—but not to say more than six words, which had to come directly from Holy Writ, and another one or two which could be chosen freely; these latter words usually conveyed the basic sense of what was said. They say that in olden times the abbot was not even permitted this much, but after the monastery on Canaan was revived, the hermits no longer wasted time on gathering meager food to eat—berries, roots, and worms (nothing else that was edible had ever been found on Outskirts Island as long as it had existed)—but received everything they needed from the monastery. So now the holy hermits whiled away the time carving cedarwood rosaries, for which the pilgrims paid the monastery good money—sometimes as much as thirty rubles for a single string.
A boat landed on Outskirts Island once a day to collect the rosaries and deliver necessities. The head of the hermitage came out to meet the boat and recited a brief quotation that contained a request, usually of a practical nature: to deliver certain food supplies or medicines or shoes or a warm blanket. Let us assume that the abbot said, “Unto him he gave a blanket” or “Let there be