The Memory

Christov crossed himself as he ran out of the church.  It was a practice he could not remember ever not doing.  From the eighth day of his life and from the fortieth day onward, Christov lived the Orthodox life.  He knew more saint stories than anyone could imagine, in fact, he had memorized the entire Synaxaristes, all twelve volumes.  And that was without even trying.  Christov had revealed his “gift” to his priest, but certainly didn’t feel like it was a gift.  It wasn’t merely twelve volumes of “Lives of the Saints” that had perfectly taken residence in his heart and mind.  Christov remembered literally everything, every conversation he had ever spoken or heard, every meal he had eaten, every image he had seen.  His mind was a flood of information.  “You will learn to glorify God with this,” his priest said.