The most beautiful

I heard that story few years ago and I still remember it well. There are not many details which I might share because of some privacy related requirements.

I have heard that an impressive couple walked through the streets in the city center holding their hands. He was a tall and handsome man. She was drab and unattractive.

A group of women saw them and quickly started to talk about them.

"What unequal couple!" - they said. "How is it possible for such a nice man to be with such an ugly woman?!"

These comments were too loud, and the couple heard them. The woman wanted to continue walking, but the man stopped. Then he looked at the ladies and said:

"For me, she's the most beautiful woman in the world."

The group of women quietly followed them with eyes, watching them walk away - her hand in his hand.

Flowers in the morning

When I have to jump out of bed to rush downstairs to meet a prince, I think: "Oh, I should have already taken a shower. I shouldn't have drunk so much last night. I should start fasting."

When he gives me flowers he has just picked from his garden, I rush back to dip them in water and think: "My home is such a mess. I should clean it and make it beautiful again."

Now I know I should be prepared for beauty. Sometimes it comes like ... Amazing Grace. I had forgotten all about that. Thank you.

The Temple of the Poetry

A monument in Sofia, Bulgaria, called Temple of the poetry.

Does the poetry really needs a monument when every tree, flower, mountain peak and smiled child is a living church of the Magical Word?

St. Spiridon

St. Spiridon was a poor shoemaker who worked from dawn to dusk. He took rests only to chew on a piece of stale bread and look at the beauty of the world through his little window.

He cherished all seasons. The sound of raindrops, the smell of lilac, the color of apple blossom inspired him to strive for purity, and his only dream was to purge his soul so that it bloomed like a tree and its fragrance fed virtue the way apple blossom fed the honey-bees.

However, the beauty of his face attracted young women who flocked to his shop. To avoid desire, which could disrupt his pious bliss, he kept his eyes off the shadow of temptation and his hands away from bodies born for lust. At his doorstep he had placed a wooden box full of ashes. He asked girls to leave their footprints there, so he could measure their feet without touching them.

One day a beautiful lady stepped out of a golden carriage and in a firm but tender voice ordered a new pair of shoes. When aksed to step on the ashes, she laughed so sweetly that the young man felt as if thousands of blossoms were thrown into his shop. He humbly repeated his request shading his eyes with his hand. The woman's heart sank, and she was silent for a while, and then she said: "No. I would like you to measure my foot."

She lifted a bit her silk dress to step on a little stool. Trying not to look at it, St. Spiridon started measuring her foot. However, in a flash of a second, he saw the exquisite silk stockinged foot. Something crumbled in his soul, but his faith was firm, so he took an awl and stabbed his eye ... then the other one.

The blind man could not work anymore, so he closed his shop and went into the woods. Groping around, he cut off twigs to weave baskets, which he traded for bread.

He found joy and peace listening to the sound of the river. When he walked, he asked God to guide him, so that he doesnn't step on an ant. In this blissful silence his purified thoughts reached and contemplated God.

However, there were sounds that troubled his soul - the love songs of the birds. He tried to chase away the birds, but he could still hear their calls. He grew restless and realized that he had never felt this way when he saw the world through his bodily eyes.

Once he remembered the tempting sight which made him stab his eyes - the beautiful woman, lifting her dress, the exquisite stockinged foot. He tried to get rid of the vision, but it lingered - so clear and tempting. He turned his blind face to all directions, but it wouldn't go away, and he could hear her laughter. His body had never felt such desire. He tried to pray, but only words of love came out of his lips.

"Why do you torture me, God? I stabbed my eyes to reach you, but I am so far away from you. Teach me how to reach you. Give me a sign, God!"

St. Spiridon prostrated himseld on the ground. When he stood up and turned his face to heaven, on his young face shone again his clear blue eyes.

( I have just retold Elin Pelin's story)