Preface
Dear reader!
You hold in your hands not only a book, but also a piece of my soul. It so happened that “Beaver” became my calling card. It was with her that my rapid rise on the Yandex platform began. Zen.
“Beaver” is a real-life story that is hard to believe. From the first lines, it will tear you away from reality and transport you to the world of heroes. Everything will happen before your eyes. The branches are about to crunch behind you, and Beaver will dash into her dugout. Follow her quietly, and your eyes will see pictures that not everyone can see.
And when you return, hug your loved ones and thank fate that everything is fine with you!
I thank you, my beloved reader! Thank you for having me! Enjoy reading!
Sincerely, author Anna Prikhodko!
“My life is like a fairy tale:
everything in it is true and everything in it is a lie.”
Lukerya
Tradition of the Apostle Peter
The holy fathers of our Church also attached great importance to the activities of the Apostle Peter. In the Patristic Tradition we can find many references to this disciple of Christ, references to his Epistles and biography.
Sacred Tradition tells us that the Apostle Peter spread Christianity in many countries, and his activity was accompanied by many miracles - the resurrection of dead people, the healing of hopelessly sick people, and many others. There is information that it was the Apostle Peter who for a long time was the first bishop of Rome.
Many saints and ancient historians describe the miracles performed by Peter. So, you can find a description of the fact how he resurrected a young man from a noble family right at his funeral in Rome. Both a disciple of Christ and another person known for the miracles of resurrection - Simeon the Magus - were invited to the burial. The Apostle Peter knew that Simeon was a heretic and was misleading many of the people, so he showed a miracle in the name of the Lord that was obvious to everyone.
It is Tradition that tells us about the death of Christ’s disciple. Of course, the active spread of Christianity did not go unnoticed by the emperor. Then it was Nero - a cruel and merciless pagan. A huge number of Christians died from his persecution.
It so happened that it was the Apostle Peter who converted two wives of Emperor Nero to the true faith. This caused great indignation of the pagan, who gave the order to capture Christ's follower and execute him. Peter was captured by guards and taken to a Roman prison.
Important! Shortly before his arrest, the apostle was warned and fled from Rome to save himself. But on the way, he saw Christ Himself coming towards him, to Rome. The Apostle asked the Lord where He was going, to which he received the answer: “I am going to Rome to be crucified again.” So Peter realized that there was no God’s will to escape and returned to Rome, where he was captured.
He was executed very quickly, just a few days later. It is noteworthy that execution was originally provided for by crucifixion, but Peter did not consider himself worthy to die in the same way as his Lord, so he was crucified upside down.
Crucifixion of the Apostle Peter
According to the last days and death of the Apostle Peter, there is a famous work of art “Come, O Lord,” by Henryk Sienkiewicz.
Chapter 1. Little Wolf
- Meadow, come here quickly. Shine into the hole!
A girl of about twelve approached the woman, bent down and lowered the lamp into the hole. Both began to peer there.
The light from the oil lamp was not enough to see the bottom.
“There’s someone there,” the woman said to her daughter. “Someone was rustling, breathing loudly. And I almost fell into this hole. So we managed to linger in the forest.
Lukerya (Luzhka) looked around. The night forest surrounded on all sides. Mighty oak trees extended their branches-arms, as if calling to hide in their crown.
“Now, now I’ll come up to you and say hello,” the girl whispered to the trees, “I’ll help you and come over.”
The forest did not scare the girl. She lived with her mother on the edge of the village and often spent the night with her in this forest.
- Why did you turn away? Come on, shine the light, lower your hand, maybe we can see it,” the mother shouted.
The girl knelt down and lowered her hand with the lamp even lower.
It looked like the hole was freshly dug. At least, it definitely wasn’t here before. The edges have crumbled a little. The lumpy sides, like the skin of some monster, rubbed against the girl’s hand.
- Hey, who's there? – the woman asked menacingly, and poked with a long stick from one edge of the pit, then from the other. - Who's there? Speak.
And she poked him with the stick again. A groan was heard from the pit.
-Mom, let's go home, okay? – Lukerya whispered, for the first time she felt creepy.
- Home? – asked the mother. – What if you need help there? And you and I will go home. No, Luzhka, you can’t do that. Take out the rope, tie the lamp to the stick and lower it deeper.
Lukerya took a piece of rope from her bag. With quick movements, the mother wound the lantern and lowered it into the hole.
The weak light helped us to see a human figure curled up on the opposite side.
“Hey, I see you, get up,” Taisya, Lukerya’s mother, shouted loudly.
The figure moved. The woman lowered the light even lower.
- Meadow, there’s a child there, by God. Go, break off a branch, we’ll give it to him,” she exclaimed.
Lukerya approached the oak trees that were calling her and addressed them:
- Well, dears, help. I won’t break a living one,” she rubbed her shoulder against the trunk of one of the oak trees, shone the light around and saw a dry branch lying nearby.
She took an ax out of her shoulder bag and, with quick, skillful movements, chopped off the side shoots. She hid the ax.
“Thank you,” she said to the oak tree and bowed low.
She gave the branch to her mother.
“Grab it,” the girl’s mother commanded, lowering the branch into the hole.
But the child continued to sit motionless.
- Mom, maybe I should go down there? - suggested the daughter.
- What are you doing? I'm crazy, but what if he's mad? Let's do this: if he doesn't come out on his own, we'll wait until the morning, and then we'll see what to do next.
The woman poked a branch at the human figure and felt how they grabbed onto it tenaciously.
- Pull, Luzhka, with me, come on.
Pressing his feet against the lumpy walls and holding the branch tightly, a boy of about six climbed out of the hole.
Lukerya brought the lamp to his face. He was scared and moaned.
His clothes were all black. The pants are a little short, obviously not for his age. The shirt, on the contrary, is wide, not made for a child.
The boy sat down on the ground and stared at his saviors. He tucked his bare feet under him.
“I’m probably frozen,” thought Lukerya, “I wish I could sit in a hole, it’s cold there, brrr...”
- Who are you? – Taisya asked rather rudely.
The boy mumbled something incomprehensible and waved his hands.
- Do you want to eat? – Taisya’s voice became gentler.
He nodded.
“Meadow, give him some bread,” the woman commanded her daughter.
Lukerya pulled out a large piece of loaf from her bag, broke it off and gave it to the boy.
He greedily stuffed the bread into his mouth.
- What should I do with you? - Taisya. - Okay, let's go home, we'll sort it out tomorrow.
She took the boy by the hand. He didn't resist.
“Meadow,” the mother commanded, “go ahead, shine.” We would have to be home before midnight. Tomorrow, so be it, I’ll go to church and ask, maybe someone knows whose boy it is. Maybe he got lost and fell into a hole? He is not from our village, I know for sure. Oh, I don't like all this. And the night is so dark today. This is not good, Meadow, not good.
Taisya continued to lament for a long time, sometimes loudly, sometimes in an undertone.
We walked through the forest for a long time. When the outlines of the houses appeared, the lamp had already gone out. Taisya wanted to take a detour at first, but then changed her mind and decided to walk along the main street. While they walked, they were accompanied by friendly dog barking. The owner came out of one of the courtyards and shouted to the travelers:
- Taisya, why are you wandering around at night again, not letting me sleep? The dogs scattered. Finally, calm down and go to bed early.
“I forgot to ask you,” the woman muttered.
We approached a house with a rickety fence. Lukerya opened the creaky gate. A small dog ran out towards me. He rubbed himself against the owner’s legs, sniffed the guest and again climbed into the booth, dragging the rope leash behind him.
“So,” Taisya said, “go to bed, and I’ll lay out the herbs and come.” Meadow, bed him on the bench next to the table.
The girl entered the house, leading the rescued child. She lit a torch. She could do everything without light, but she was afraid that the child would get scared and do something.
“Sit here,” Lukerya gestured to him on the bench, “I’ll get the skin now, and you’ll go to bed.”
The boy sat down obediently. He looked at one point. The girl looked at him.
“He’s kind of strange,” she thought. - Silent, timid. Little Wolf."
Suddenly she heard the boy's ragged breathing. He seemed to be sniffing at something. He abruptly jumped up from the bench and rushed under the table. He continued sniffling and scurrying around in the dark corner.
Lukerya was scared. She looked carefully under the table. At this time, a boy had already crawled out from under him. In his hands he held a small mouse. He looked at Lukerya and hummed joyfully:
- We... We...
- Yes, I see, I caught the mouse. Why do you need it?
He looked at Lukerya with bulging eyes and nodded towards the bread lying on the table.
“Y,” he mumbled and extended his hand with the mouse, poking her almost in the chest.
Lukerya jumped away from him.
“Y,” he repeated, pointing to the bread.
The girl guessed that he wanted to feed the mouse bread and laughed.
- Where did you fall on our heads? Where has it been seen that mice are fed bread?
“Y,” the boy was already muttering angrily.
“Don’t yell at me,” Lukerya said sternly. - Let go of the mouse and go to sleep.
But the boy in an instant found himself near the table, grabbed the bread, took a bite and put the rest under his shirt.
“Oh, you thief,” the girl screamed, “give me the bread, my mother will scold you.”
But the boy lay down on the bench and curled up. A released mouse ran next to him.
“Give the bread to whom I tell you,” Lukerya shook him by the shoulder.
He turned his head, something sharp touched the girl’s wrist.
“Oh,” she screamed loudly, pulling back her hand, “Mom, Mom, he bit me!”
Taisya flew into the room.
- Who bit? Why are you yelling like crazy? – she hissed at her daughter.
- This boy bit me.
Lukerya extended her hand to her mother. Blood was oozing from the bite site.
“Oh, my God,” Taisya babbled, “some kind of animal, not a child.” Go, I'll wash the wound.
Lukerya, wiping her tears, followed her mother. Taisya squatted down near the stove, took out a wooden ladle, scooped water from the barrel and carefully washed her hand over the bucket.
“Here, plantain,” she handed to her daughter, “apply it and go to bed.” Tomorrow I’ll send it to Father Dimitri, let him decide for himself.
Taisya approached the child. And he was already asleep. She looked at him for a long time. His small, thin body would sometimes tremble. He moved his lips and said something silently.
“Woe is me with you, I feel like I shouldn’t have brought you here,” Taisya reproached herself.
St. Peter
It was a late December night. The rare passers-by walking on the streets evoked nothing but the gray feeling that had long filled this boring city. They walked without noticing anyone around them; the darkness scared them, but did not cause panic. They were boring, like the snow that had melted that day, like the buildings that killed just by looking at them. The people of this night are mediocre, they no longer believe in beauty and death, which gave birth to love. They want to believe only in themselves, but they are not the masters of their life and even death, they are simply deceived by time and generations.
Only one person who finds himself on this night is worthy of attention. Heading along the terrible street towards the embankment, he thought about everything that interested him, this was his last breath of air, his last heartbeat, his last love.
He was so simple, his simple dark jeans and gray hat, black thin jacket, it seemed that he was not dressed for the weather. But it was not his clothes that did not fit him into the boring picture of the city; his thoughts were so tangible that they could simply be read.
He talked about death, or more precisely about life, and thought about what awaited him after this walk; he did not think about his past, for the first time in many years. His thoughts were so beautiful and so simple and perfect that it seemed like he was smart, but his voice didn't show it because he was dead now, but life was on the way. The young man’s feet led him to the beginning of the bridge, connecting two parts of the city, connecting life and death.
The pupils, dilated, looked up from the lanterns on the bridge, and once again they saw the sky - the most important miracle in this world. “If only this bridge were even higher, then I would have fallen not into the water, but into the clouds. No! I’m not afraid of pain, it’ll just be beautiful,” thought the man in a formal jacket.
Having taken his first steps on the bridge, the young man saw a raven in the sky, black as severity, he was flying low, oh no, he lands on the bridge, right in front of the lonely young man. He throws off his pen. Letting out a groan, the raven disappeared, just as pure sound disappears in a stream of ignorance. “Maybe I can handle it like everyone else and stay? ” - the thought of how a thunderstorm on a hot day injured the unfortunate man on the bridge. “No, I don’t believe in myself, I believe in death, I’m going, there’s not much left! "
More steps to the other side, more thoughts of death, more strength. But what is this lying on the road? It’s white, but it’s definitely not snow, it shouldn’t be here. My heart began to beat faster, like when you tear the wrapping paper off a gift. You need to come closer to see what's there. These are daffodils, four flowers, tied with a yellow thread. “Cursed be the one who left them here, they are beautiful, like me - thrown on the bridge to be admired or feared for their ideal,” the loner said to himself.
Despite the late hour, cars were still passing on the bridge, and I could swear they slowed down when their headlights illuminated Peter. Peter? He didn’t tell me his name, probably there’s no other way to call him. Now it will become easier, a name always makes everything easier to tell, although he didn’t like it, otherwise he would have introduced himself to me with it.
Several minutes have already passed since the start of the journey on the bridge, we need to hurry.
But Peter is already in place - the middle of the bridge, the sixth lantern standing behind him. Soon it will strike midnight and it will be late, a date will come that should never come in Peter’s life, we need to end this.
Silence enveloped the world, there was only one person left capable of feeling and thinking, but he too would leave this light, exactly at midnight, exactly in the center of the bridge.
Peter threw his legs over the handrails of the bridge, holding them with his hands, and found himself on the edge. There is little left and life will return. He resembled an angel who descended into this world in order to see ignorance and show the beauty of the soul leaving the body. It seemed that Peter stood like that for an eternity, but a terrible battle was already going on inside him, for the first time all evening he began to remember himself and wanted to let go of his hands even more.
“I love you,” Peter heard himself say a few hours ago.
“You are a nonentity, you will never achieve anything,” these were the words of the terrible woman that Peter always heard.
Only Peter himself knows how he could endure it, but he had to wait a little longer.
“You are my friend,” he never believed in this phrase, Petya had no friends, he had himself.
“I won’t be happy,” again the young man heard his own voice, it didn’t hurt him, he loved the feeling of pity and was glad that it didn’t leave him even before the jump.
“Life has no meaning, it’s just a big mistake that is corrected by death,” one tear rolled down from Peter’s eye, like a large diamond, and fell into the river.
Standing on the bridge, he no longer felt his limbs, but visions continued to come to him, he was afraid of them and hated them. His whole life has passed through a bridge from which he is destined to fall and kill her.
Another minute passed and some movement appeared on the bridge. Someone was approaching Peter. It turned out to be a man in a strange yellow tailcoat; he stopped already in the middle of the bridge, right where Peter was standing. – This is just the beginning! “Don’t be afraid,” said the strange man in a tailcoat.
“I’m not afraid, dad,” these were the young man’s last thoughts before his hands unclenched the handrails of the bridge.
A moment later, when the body hit the thickness of the water and ice, what Peter wanted happened, he did not jump into the water, he jumped into the sky, his soul was already soaring high above this terrible city, above the world that could not understand him and over the beauty that gave birth to this chaos. For the first time in his life, Peter found happiness, this happiness was not in peace, but in the fact that now he had truly come to life, great things awaited him very soon, but for now the rest of his life hung in the air, like the smell after rain in the summer. It seemed that the world began to live a different life when Peter left; it seemed that for the first time everyone believed in great power, and this power was death.
And the next day, passers-by will find a notebook on the shore, from which everything will become clear what happened to the young man who jumped off the bridge before leaving the garden of evil.
