Childhood Miracle

As large wide eyes of childhood viewed with wonder

A finite world that seemed infinity,

I looked upon my fevered mother dying.

No medicine could quell that body's fire,

And prayers were vent and ever reaching higher

Chants were sung mid voices softly crying

For one so young to leave her family.

Then a monk was called to drive the demons under.

We looked upon a tall and saintly man

Dressed all in black with clothing none too new,

Enter in silence and in silence stand.

As frankincense filled our tearful eyes with smoke

He moved to her bed and in a whisper spoke....

Thrice in holy water he dipped his hand

And thrice in my mother's burning face he threw

The spray and suddenly she was ours again.

Cool her skin as she held her children tight

And joy descended on the room that night,

In the air the scent of flowers grew

Mixed with the fragrant censer's rhythmic sway.

Ochets Afanasi, in Russian we learned to say

The blessed father's name, we hardly knew,

Who through the Power working channelled light

And set the hungry hounds of Death to flight.