Flying, Part Three

 

            Prokhor knelt on the small porch of the cabin the men of the town had built for him, thinking back to the visit he received from three thieves who had heard about him and his supposed wealth. He had finished his prayers that evening and was walking back to the cabin from his hollowed out tree to find the three men searching through his few belongings, angry, confused, and threatening him with harm if he did not give up the incredible wealth they believed that he possessed.

              He held up his hands and offered to give them everything, asking them to sit down on the porch while the brought out everything that he owned. After a few moments, he returned with a bag of rocks, a threadbare blanket and the wooden plank that was the bed upon which he slept. Each of the men erupted into a tirade of profanity and further threats, eventually resorting to physical violence against the old man. They each took turns striking him with closed fists, kicking him, and finally beating him with longer pieces of firewood.

              As Prokhor eventually lay motionless in the dirt of the cabin pathway, the men once again tore through his cabin to once again find nothing of value, to simply destroy everything they could, leaving the well built and beautiful cabin utterly ruined. With a mouthful of blood, several broken ribs, and only one functioning eye, he watched the men walk away from their chaos, leaving him with the faith that his God would intervene and send help in one form or another.

              Having grown tired of sitting and remembering the pain and damage from the horrible, bestial beating he received, Prokhor rose from the porch, balanced himself with his cane and though once a relatively tall man, he was now considerably shorter with a hunched back, and any movement always filled his entire body with pain.

              For as much as he hated to spend time sleeping, he knew that at least four hours was necessary in order to keep him from slipping into a slumber at a moment's notice. There was always work to be done, firewood to gather, food to gather, and prayers to be spoken. The absolute necessity of this life made the requirement of some sleep unavoidable, so he retired to his cabin to then wake with the morning sun to eat a few handfuls of bread and greens.

              He finished his small meal and hobbled to the well to draw a cup of water, as the temperatures that day had already risen quite high, even for a midsummer day. He replaced his cup and began to walk toward the hollowed out tree to suddenly remember an unusual dream that had filled mind during his brief sleep. As if hovering above an entirely darkened landscape, he looked down upon what seemed to be just a few points of light, like small candles flickering in absolute darkness. He lowered himself to the largest of them all, possibly fifteen or twenty, and recognized his own image within the flame, to be startled with the view, as if he was looking into the surface of water.

              The recollection of the dream brought two conflicting ideas or approaches to mind. The first was that if he was a light amidst so much darkness, he needed to be doing as much as possible to increase his influence, to burn brighter than ever before, and hopefully ignite others to burn brightly as well. And secondly, he felt insecure, ineffective, and ill equipped to lead, to teach, or to prepare anyone other than himself for walking the path toward spiritual health.

              He rested his left hand upon the tree, paused for a moment, looked inside, took a deep breath and struggled to stand up as straight as he could, but did not succeed. Turning away from the tree, he proceeded to walk further north into the deeper and darker forest, thinking that greater seclusion, less involvement with the world, and more aggressive and faithful prayer was key to becoming something greater, someone more holy, and someone more prepared for guiding and helping others.

              Driven and motivated with a passion that he had only slightly picked at in his past thirty years, he walked until coming across a massive flat stone brightly illuminated by the sun through an open patch of forest canopy. He struggled toward the giant stone, crawled upon it, raised his arms, and began praying, feeling as if something new and wonderful had taken place in bringing him to this new stage in his life.

              Uncertain as to exactly how this next phase of his life would proceed and what fruit it would create within him, he returned to the flat stone every morning to kneel, to pray, to focus, and to take full control of his passions, feeling the weakness of his flesh slowly dissipate with each successive day. Many weeks had passed as part of this new routine, he eventually reached the stone a final time to feel a light snowfall coming down upon him. He started to adjust himself to kneel in this place like he did each day but found that his body refused to bend, demanding that he remain on his feet and pray while standing up.

              Certain that he had no other choice, he raised his hands and surprisingly felt remarkably light and disconnected with everything physical and tangible in the world around him. It was when a branch touched his head that he realized he had ascended from the stone, hovering at least seven feet above the physical earth, to then disregard this incredible phenomenon and redirect his attention to the words of his prayer.

              His inexplicable ascension became a regular part of his daily prayer, lifting him from the weight of his own body, the pain that racked him every moment of his life, and allowing him to disregard all else, feeling himself draw closer to God each moment. It was after several months of this transition from prayer within a hollowed out tree to prayer in the open upon a stone, ascending above everything physical, that he knew he made the right decision to pursue further growth.

              Returning to his cabin only once a week, he could see that those from the village had been regularly visiting him, seeking his guidance, and leaving him gifts, usually food stuffs of some kind. On his most recent visit, he encountered a handful of children sitting on his porch, who leapt up at his arrival, to tug on his clothing, pull at his hands, and run their fingers through his beard, asking where he had gone for so long. He explained that he needed to find a new location to pray and grow closer to God but also that he was always available if they needed him.

              He and the children began a round of hide and seek in the forest around the cabin. Though he was old, stiff and full of pain, he still gave of himself to them, finding such joy in their innocent excitement. As dusk began to fall, he sent them off to return home for fear of small children becoming lost in the woods without parental oversight. Overly tired from the play with the children, he retired to his cabin to sleep until the next morning. As he rose with the sun, he caught a glimpse of the same children hiding just within the tree line to the south but pretended to not see them or hear them.

              As he walked further north to his prayer stone, he could hear them following him and he maintained his routine of standing on the stone and ascending from the surface to draw into a deeper connection with God. He peeked through one eye on occasion to see the children staring at him in awe and whispering among themselves. An hour passed and eventually the children returned from the way they had come.

              As darkness began to fall, he prayed that news of his prayerful ascension would not become too widely known, trusting that responsible adults would think that they children were being silly and making up stories. But the next day arrived after his standard four hours of sleep to bring a remarkably large crowd of children and adults standing at a distance, in hopes of seeing Prokhor ascend as the children had described.

              He was filled with mixed emotions over being revealed by the children but trusted that this was a message from God that he needed to use his wisdom, his experience, and his prayer filled heart to influence and guide those who would listen. The words that came to him at that moment were "I will teach transgressors your ways," which prompted him to let go of his own desires and follow this new opportunity.