Saints and Divine help
“That night after the Liturgy, exhausted, I leaned on the edge of the Holy Table. In the delirium of the fever I saw the Saint [Panteleimon] in front of me, young and vigorous, holding a small glass full of medicine, and he told me, ‘Drink it, my Father, to become well.’ I took it from the hand and drank it and became completely well. The fever left me.”
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“‘Don’t be said, Father. I am always with you.’ ‘Who are you, my child?’ ‘I am Panteleimon, who lives in Neo Kosmo.'”
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“In the year 1923, one of his spiritual children who was exceptionally beloved by the Elder – a gentleman full of health and vigour – suffered a rupture of the appendix, and lived only eight days more. During those few days, Father Nicholas brought Heaven down to Earth with his unceasing and heartfelt prayer that his beloved child might live! One night when he came home, he said, grief-stricken, to his family, ‘Elias is going to die; Saint John and Saint Panteleimon told me.’ And truly, his beloved spiritual child departed – his child whom he would embrace every time he met him. Three months passed before the sister of the deceased was able – because of her inexpressible grief – to ask exactly how he had seen the vision. He told her then, ‘At the time when I was serving Liturgy, I saw across from me, behind the Holy Table, Saint John and Saint Panteleimon, and they said to me, “We conveyed your request to our Master, Christ, who told us that he would die.”‘ “A higher command”, they told him. We bowed our heads, somewhat comforted.”
“Once he set out on his own to go to Chapel in Peristeri, but he lost his way. He advanced, distressed and Praying, without knowing where he was going, until he saw a young lad in front of him, saying to him, ‘Did you lose your way, Father? I will guide you.’ The young lad went in front and Father Nicholas went behind, and they reached the door of the Church. Here he, himself, relates what happened: ‘As soon as we reached outside the door, I turned to give him thanks, and immediately he shone brilliantly, and I lost him.'”
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“One night, the eve of the Feast of the Holy Hieromartyr Phocas was dawning. One of his spiritual children saw a majestic Priest behind Father Nicholas, who was observing how they were chanting the Holy Divine Liturgy. When she mentioned this to the Elder, he said to her, bringing his finger to his lips, ‘Shhh! It is the Hieromartyr Phocas.'”
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