![\"\"](\"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/02\/engin-akyurt-0bgCyhlq9oU-unsplash-775x517.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
“Verka the whore” \u2014\u00a0a frightened whisper spread through\u00a0the church among the elderly. Someone ran after the watchman,\u00a0to get the girl out as quickly as possible. What a shame! A shameless harlot in the House of God!\u00a0Someone tried to push her to the exit. It was there that Father Eugene came across them . . .<\/p>\n
Father Eugene was not a saint. He was just a man. And, like all people, he made mistakes and did things that\u00a0he was ashamed of.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n But he tried, he tried very hard to be a good priest. And, believe me, he\u00a0was. I know.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYou know, it’s good that\u00a0memory exists.\u201d he said. “You have already admitted what you did wrong, repented, got up, and dusted yourself off, but still, pictures from the past appear before your eyes. Where you were wrong, chickened out, behaved cowardly, went by someone else’s grief. You know, just acting like a pig. This is necessary, it is useful to remember. So that one’s conscience can sting you again and so that you’ll never repeat it… I will never forget Verka … I was young then, stupid.”<\/p>\n It was a long time ago. In that small town, many called her Verka the whore. She did not have a father, and her\u00a0drunken mother every now and then\u00a0would change one drunken gentleman for another.\u00a0As a result, one of them hit her on the head with a bottle. And Angela died – that was the name of her mother.<\/p>\n Verka stayed with her grandmother. Ever since school, she went along a crooked path. First she\u00a0slept with some lustful,\u00a0greasy men for dinner in a cheap cafe, then for clothes. Sometimes they could give her some money. She also had a normal job. She sold meat in the market. But everyone knew that she could sell something else.<\/p>\n When Verka was eighteen, her grandmother died. Her\u00a0heart could not stand it, first aching for her\u00a0daughter, then for her\u00a0granddaughter. And she was left alone.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Then she got pregnant. She herself didn’t know who the father was.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cVerka told me that the news of her pregnancy struck her like lightning,\u201d Father Eugene recalled.\u00a0 “After all, she slept with everyone in a row, whoever did not lead a good life.\u00a0What her mother did, so did she. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.\u00a0Only unlike her mother, she didn’t drink.\u00a0\u00a0To the point of nausea, she had seen enough of drinking. And she also wanted to escape from loneliness. She\u00a0just didn’t know how.\u00a0No one taught her how.\u00a0She\u00a0didn’t even think about an abortion. Although the doctors immediately said: “Why do you need it?” And they didn’t really want to deal with Verka, they shrunk away from her. But she didn’t care what they said. She\u00a0did not go to the examinations. She thought that her loneliness would finally end, she would love this child, and he would love her. And now everything in her life would\u00a0become different. Not like her\u00a0mother. Strange, isn’t it? But even a “whore” needs love. Especially her. She is ‘wanted’ by everyone. And after all, Len, think, something inside her was pure, real, since she kept\u00a0the baby. We, people, only see the shell … But\u00a0the Lord sees the heart.”\u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0But then, at the beginning of the story, no one knew. And one day Verka\u00a0came to their church,\u00a0drunk to oblivion. She was sobbing, smearing cheap mascara on her swollen face, and then she burst into some sinister, crazy laugh. And she was pushing a stroller in front of her, in which she was pushing a probably already three-month-old baby.<\/p>\n “Verka the whore” – a frightened whisper spread through\u00a0the church among the elderly. Someone ran after the watchman – to get the girl out as quickly as possible. What a shame! A shameless harlot in the House of God!\u00a0Someone tried to push her to the exit. It was there that Father Eugene came across them.<\/p>\n The young priest\u00a0was out of sorts. At home, his\u00a0daughter was ill, his matushka\u00a0was anxious, they had fought badly. And then there’s the christening, and he was\u00a0late. And Verka the whore had brought another burden to him. Yes, he knew who she was.<\/p>\n Why Vera\u00a0came to the church\u00a0for the first time then, she herself did not understand. Probably because there was no place to go. She said almost nothing and still laughed and cried the same way. And she looked into Father Eugene’s eyes, as if she was waiting for something that would at least slightly ease her unbearable pain. And there was a reason for her pain.<\/p>\n \u201cI looked at her child then,\u201d the priest recalled, \u201cand felt that my hair was standing on end. It was a real freak. Some kind of shapeless head, everything seemed\u00a0to be out of place. Vera said that he was\u00a0also blind. “Why? she asked me, tripping over her tongue. \u00a0And the smells coming from her were\u00a0so disgusting. “What can I do?”<\/p>\n Father Eugene\u00a0fell silent and wiped his face with his hand several times. As if he wanted to wash away the haunting memory. But it didn’t go away.<\/p>\n “And I …”\u00a0he spoke again and clutched his head. “Do you know what I did then? I knew about her adventures, the town was\u00a0small. I said, \u201cWhat did you want? All your\u00a0life you\u00a0have sinned, now you must endure the consequences for your whole\u00a0life !!!! Go sleep it off first, then we’ll talk. ” And I\u00a0went about my\u00a0business. Do you understand, Lena?! I went about my business! I passed her by …”<\/p>\n “But isn’t that the truth?” I asked. “Wasn’t it for her sin?”\u00a0<\/p>\n “Only the Lord knows if that was true or not!”\u00a0<\/p>\n Vera then silently turned around and staggered away with her baby carriage. Heavy, slow, as if crushed by a concrete slab. It was some kind of black hopelessness. She walked into emptiness. And some grandmother hissed behind her: \u201cLook, what she came up with! The drunk decided to barge in here. And she laughs as well…\u201d Stepan the watchman followed Verka on tiptoes. As if he were\u00a0afraid that she would return. And they were driving her\u00a0away from the church. Not only from the church – from life. There was\u00a0no place for her in this life. None!<\/p>\n Father Eugene turned and looked after her. It seemed that he had said everything correctly, but everything inside him burned. “She won’t come back,” his heart whispered. “Well, that means she doesn’t need God. Okay, it’s time for me to go do the baptism.”<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t say anything to that hissing grandmother then, nor to Stepan, Len,\u201d Father Eugene almost moaned. “Why? I wasn’t up to it. An official was having his big son baptized. A sponsor. I couldn’t be late.”\u00a0<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Father Eugene could not sleep that\u00a0night. He tossed and turned in bed, got up, went into the kitchen, came back …<\/p>\n “Why aren’t you sleeping?” his matushka Irina muttered sleepily.<\/p>\n He told her. She paused, got up, set the kettle to boiling,\u00a0and they sat for a long time in the kitchen.<\/p>\n They recalled how her cousin “flew in” without a husband. And no matter how much they persuaded her, she had an abortion. But she had\u00a0money and work. They remembered how their friend abandoned her daughter with hydrocephalus in the maternity hospital. “I will not be the mother of a disabled girl!” she said then.\u00a0Her\u00a0husband was good, and their cup was full, but it didn’t matter.<\/p>\n “And this little girl, a harlot, sank to the very bottom, and gave birth, and did not abandon her baby. I am not making excuses for her, but look – a loving, pure heart. You say, the child is very ill. It is clear that this\u00a0hurts and scares her. So she drinks. And you go and talk to\u00a0her about sin and reckoning. About “sleeping it off” … First you should have\u00a0warmed her heart,\u00a0hugged her, pitied her, cried\u00a0with her. She came for that. She grasped at a straw. And then, you see … Eh, father … Okay, let’s go to bed, you have to serve early in the morning…”\u00a0<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n In the morning, Father Eugene came to church long before the service. Lydia Ivanovna, one of the oldest parishioners, was already there.<\/p>\n She was almost always in the\u00a0church. She left later than everyone else, came earlier. And sometimes she stayed overnight – in a construction trailer. She had nothing to do at home after she lost her son and husband one by one. She barely survived it, and then Father Eugene saved her. But that is another story.<\/p>\n “Lydia Ivanovna, hello! Do you know Verka? You know…”<\/p>\n “Bless, Father. Who doesn’t know her!”<\/p>\n “And where does she live, do\u00a0you know?”<\/p>\n “I don\u2019t know where she lives, but right now she is sleeping\u00a0at my house with her poor little Mishutka. I bought him food too.”<\/p>\n “What?”<\/p>\n The day before not only Father Eugene had been watching Verka leave, thoughtfully. Lydia Ivanovna was also watching.\u00a0She overheard their conversation by chance and went after the woman who was barely dragging her feet behind her stroller.<\/p>\n “Vera, Vera, wait!”<\/p>\n Verka stopped and looked at her angrily with dull eyes.<\/p>\n “What, have you come to talk about sins too? I already know that…”\u00a0<\/p>\n Lydia Ivanovna was silent, and then hugged this young woman, smelling of vodka, and began stroking her head, like she had once done to her son.\u00a0<\/p>\n Verka first tried to escape, and then went limp and clung to Lydia Ivanovna. How she had always dreamed of snuggling up to her mother, but she did not hug her. Then\u00a0she burst into tears, and sobbed, and sobbed. Like a child.<\/p>\n “He, what is he suffering for? It’s because of me, right? Because of me? I wanted everything to be different.\u00a0I wanted to change my life, to make him happy. To love him.\u00a0And here he is, my Mishutka. The doctors say he\u00a0won’t last long. He eats from a syringe. He can’t see. His face looks like it went through a meat grinder…”\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cYou have already changed your life, little girl,\u201d whispered Lydia Ivanovna. “You just don’t understand that yet. And love him, love him. He needs it. You need it too.”<\/p>\n “Little girl”…\u00a0Even her mother did not call Verka that. And then everyone else just called her ‘the whore’. She cried and cried … and\u00a0it seemed that it became easier for her.<\/p>\n Lydia Ivanovna\u00a0invited\u00a0Vera to her place. \u201cWe\u2019ll have\u00a0tea, you\u2019ll rest, wash yourself.\u201d The old woman, who herself had experienced inhuman grief, felt that if she let her go now, she not only would not return to the church, but something terrible would happen.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Lydia Ivanovna quietly closed the door behind her. Father Eugene sat down next to Verka on the bed.<\/p>\n \u201cForgive me, Vera. Yesterday I said the wrong thing, not what was needed.”\u00a0Father\u2019s quiet words reached her.<\/p>\n Vera told him how she gave birth, heard a soft squeak, and it was as if the sun had risen for her. “Everything, everything will be fine now!” she thought.<\/p>\n And then there were the doctors’ words about the fact that he was a freak, that he was\u00a0doomed to die, someone even said something about an “unknown animal”. And they didn’t even want to show her her son. It never occurred to anyone that the “whore” would not abandon such a freak child.<\/p>\n She told how she rushed\u00a0to the intensive care unit, but she was not allowed in: \u201cGo home already. You\u00a0gave birth\u00a0here to this … “.\u00a0 They didn’t say anything about why he was that way. \u201cYou shouldn’t have prowled around so much,\u201d\u00a0and that was\u00a0all.<\/p>\n “I was scared to look at him, it hurt. I didn’t know how I could keep living. But how could I abandon him?! He was alive … that just the way it was. I was the one to blame.”<\/p>\n The doctors saw her off from the hospital in silence.<\/p>\n “Wow … Who would have thought,” the old midwife said suddenly. “Here they abandon healthy children. And she\u2026”<\/p>\n Vera told how she drank\u00a0from\u00a0grief at home. For the first time in her\u00a0life. She came to herself only when Mishutka was screaming from hunger. Her milk was gone, and she gave him a cheap mixture. He did not have the strength to suck, and she fed him from a syringe, as she had been taught in the hospital. He spit it up, and she fed him again. And so it went for hours. She didn’t go out with him, she\u00a0was afraid of people. She almost threw herself out of the window with her son. How could she keep living,\u00a0and for what? But something stopped her.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n – And I, Len, sat, listening\u00a0to all of this, and it seemed to me that I had come across\u00a0a miracle.”\u00a0said Father Eugene. “Here is a sinner in front of me, beaten, hardened, despised by all. We are so clean and decent. But all this outward layer is accidental, superficial. Under this mud is a heart, bright and\u00a0kind. A brave heart. Who was not afraid to carry such a burden. She didn’t\u00a0think about having an abortion or leaving her Mishutka for a second.\u00a0But no one expected it from her. How wrong we are about people, Len. How wrong we are! This is so scary! What a soul she has! Sick, but alive, and\u00a0loving! And I said, “You sinned…” Oh Lord!”\u00a0<\/p>\n And Fr. Eugene also recalled the words of his old spiritual father from the Lavra: \u201cFirst, love, see the image of God in a person, and then teach! Do you hear, son! Love! The very last sinner! Then your heart will tell you the right words, not official ones. We, priests, sometimes say something clever, spiritual and go on our\u00a0way. Business, demands. And we don’t see the pain and grief of a person. We pass this pain by and forget it. And the man disappears.\u00a0The soul is petrified. But he came to us as to Christ. Always remember this! God forbid that we\u00a0pass by this\u00a0grief, push it away. God forbid!”<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n The next day, several women from Father Eugene’s church\u00a0were cleaning up Verka’s cluttered apartment. He told them everything. Someone brought an old baby cot, linen, sleepers. Matushka\u00a0Irina gave her a baby carriage. They pitched\u00a0in for diapers and\u00a0food. Nurse Valentina Petrovna, a parishioner, came to visit Mishutka every other day. The girls from the choir ran to take him\u00a0for a walk.<\/p>\n At first Verka\u00a0just laid there\u00a0and cried more and more. Then she began to come to her senses. For a long time she sat with her son in her arms,\u00a0saying something to him. She kissed the blind eyes, the disfigured face. She caught his fleeting smile. It was scary for her, and good.\u00a0Something unfamiliar and hot rolled up into her\u00a0throat and made her\u00a0heart beat. She was finally needed. And there was one whom she loved.<\/p>\n “Yes, everyone needs love.” Father Eugene repeated.<\/p>\n Mishutka died when he was\u00a0ten months old. Early in the morning. In Verka’s arms. When Valentina Petrovna came to see them at lunchtime, she was still sitting\u00a0with him. She muttered something and kept kissing him. On his\u00a0eyes, his\u00a0nose. They were barely able to take the\u00a0small body from her.<\/p>\n The parish buried the boy. Verka was taken away by an ambulance. They all thought that she had lost her mind.<\/p>\n “But it was fine, after a month she got out.”\u00a0said Father Eugene. “First we settled her with me and my wife. We\u00a0were still afraid that she\u00a0would do something to herself. We\u00a0took her\u00a0to the church\u00a0by the hand. We\u00a0didn\u2019t leave her alone. And then she went home. She returned to the market. But she came to church and helped in the refectory. She\u00a0ran to the grave every day, to the one who\u00a0needed her. And to the one\u00a0she needed. Sometimes she broke down and\u00a0drank. Many things happened during this time. More than ten years passed. It’s a long story.”\u00a0<\/p>\n “How is she now? I would like to see her.”<\/p>\n “You’ve already seen her.”\u00a0<\/p>\n “Me?”\u00a0<\/p>\n “Do you remember that last year you went to visit Father Dimitri in the village for a church feast? She treated you with her dumplings … Why\u00a0are your eyes so huge? That was Verka.”<\/p>\n “I was remembering\u00a0that woman. Healthy, beautiful, quiet. Peaceful. Yes, she was exactly peaceful. It was good to be\u00a0next to her. Father Dimitri then boasted that Vera was their church\u00a0cook and a better one could not be found\u00a0in the whole diocese. She mentioned\u00a0her husband, also quiet, silent. He name was Igor.\u00a0He is the headman of the church. And they have three boys.”\u00a0<\/p>\n “Those are his children. He is a widower. Once he came to our parish and took a liking to Verka. She couldn’t believe it for a long time. She considered herself dirty, a whore. And people were whispering to him: ‘What are you doing, she . . . .’\u00a0But he was\u00a0stubborn, he did not listen to anyone. Now they have a\u00a0family.\u00a0He is silent, quiet, but God forbid that anyone look askance at his wife. And no one does. They forgot\u00a0everything a long time ago. Only I\u00a0remember. And I am ashamed and hurt.\u00a0I walked past Verka’s grief then. And if it weren’t\u00a0for Lydia Ivanovna, what would have happened? It’s scary to think of it,\u00a0Len! Fearful! How easy it is to destroy a person. Just by walking by. But even the most lost sinner has a soul. It is necessary to see it, the soul. It is easy to ruin it, yes. But it is also easy to save it. Like Lydia Ivanovna. Just warm their heart. Cry together. Not looking at the outside, but at the heart. Do not be afraid to get dirty. Touch their heart with your heart.\u00a0Love them. Love changes everything: life, the world, destiny. It\u00a0can do anything. The main thing is not to push anyone away!”\u00a0<\/p>\n Source: https:\/\/russian-faith.com\/heart-of-a-harlot-n4423<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “Verka the whore” \u2014\u00a0a frightened whisper spread through\u00a0the church among the elderly. Someone ran after the watchman,\u00a0to get the girl out as quickly as…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":33973,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[71],"tags":[98],"class_list":["post-33972","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories-and-parables","tag-life-story"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/02\/engin-akyurt-0bgCyhlq9oU-unsplash.jpg","views":{"total":212,"cached_at":"","cached_date":1768412261},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paPyw9-8PW","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33972","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=33972"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33972\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":33974,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33972\/revisions\/33974"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/33973"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=33972"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=33972"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/catalog.obitel-minsk.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=33972"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}“First love, and then teach.”<\/h3>\n