Priest Ioan Istrati
One day I leave my car at the service for two hours. I had nothing to do. I wandered around. At a few steps there was a pub with a terrace. It was terribly hot. I sat down and asked for an iced cold mineral water . While I was sitting there three workers dirty of lime with dust on their faces came in. One recognizes me. The priest drinks wine at the pub. When they get close they say in a chorus: `Good day.`
I ask them:
`What are you doing, boys?`
`We have half an hour break from our work.`
`I will pay you for some beers.`
They sit down very glad. One with a small beard says:
`Father I want to tell you something.
`Tell me.`
`My mother died about one month ago with being confessed and without light in her sleep. Every night I dreamt as if she was calling me as if she was in a big fire. I was afraid to go to sleep again.
I said:
`Poor mother maybe she had some unconfessed sins, some abortions or something…`
`Yes father she had about five abortions…`
I sigh.
`What can I do to ease her soul?`
`Say the Jesus prayer for her: at every inspiration say in your mind: God have mercy on my mother. Say daily the Akathist for the reposed. Give alms to some poor families with many children. Come to the church to pray for her.
On the cheek of the young man covered of white dust a tear is rolling down.
`Father, I remained orphan. Mother taught me as a child to pray to the Holy Mother of God.`
`Why? I said. To have a Mother to protect you when she is no more here.`
`Yes father.`
There a heavy silence fell. Not even the cars are heard anymore. The builders drink slowly their beers. One of them makes a toast and tell s the bearded man:
`For the soul of your mother.`
`It is peace.`
