Brothers -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction; Russia -- Social life and customs -- 1533-1917 -- Fiction
Fathers and teachers, a touching incident befell me once. In my
wanderings I met in the town of K. my old orderly, Afanasy. It was
eight years since I had parted from him. He chanced to see me in the
market-place, recognized me, ran up to me, and how delighted he was! He
simply pounced on me: “Master dear, is it you? Is it really you I see?”
He took me home with him.
He was no longer in the army, he was married and already had two little
children. He and his wife earned their living as costermongers in the
market-place. His room was poor, but bright and clean. He made me sit
down, set the samovar, sent for his wife, as though my appearance were
a festival for them. He brought me his children: “Bless them, Father.”
“Is it for me to bless them? I am only a humble monk. I will pray for
them. And for you, Afanasy Pavlovitch, I have prayed every day since
that day, for it all came from you,” said I. And I explained that to
him as well as I could. And what do you think? The man kept gazing at
me and could not believe that I, his former master, an officer, was now
before him in such a guise and position; it made him shed tears.
“Why are you weeping?” said I, “better rejoice over me, dear friend,
whom I can never forget, for my path is a glad and joyful one.”
He did not say much, but kept sighing and shaking his head over me
tenderly.
“What has became of your fortune?” he asked.
“I gave it to the monastery,” I answered; “we live in common.”
After tea I began saying good-by, and suddenly he brought out half a
rouble as an offering to the monastery, and another half-rouble I saw
him thrusting hurriedly into my hand: “That’s for you in your
wanderings, it may be of use to you, Father.”
I took his half-rouble, bowed to him and his wife, and went out
rejoicing. And on my way I thought: “Here we are both now, he at home
and I on the road, sighing and shaking our heads, no doubt, and yet
smiling joyfully in the gladness of our hearts, remembering how God
brought about our meeting.”
I have never seen him again since then. I had been his master and he my
servant, but now when we exchanged a loving kiss with softened hearts,
there was a great human bond between us. I have thought a great deal
about that, and now what I think is this: Is it so inconceivable that
that grand and simple-hearted unity might in due time become universal
among the Russian people? I believe that it will come to pass and that
the time is at hand.
And of servants I will add this: In old days when I was young I was
often angry with servants; “the cook had served something too hot, the
orderly had not brushed my clothes.” But what taught me better then was
a thought of my dear brother’s, which I had heard from him in
childhood: “Am I worth it, that another should serve me and be ordered
about by me in his poverty and ignorance?” And I wondered at the time
that such simple and self-evident ideas should be so slow to occur to
our minds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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