URSS3 stack012

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My maternal grandmother Tatiana Naidenov died young, at the edge of forty-four. Before dying
she had seen Saint Serge, the Just. She had time enough to speak of her vision, at the last minute,
and no one believed her. But I believed her… I only wondered if Saint Serge had come alone
into the white house of the Naidenovs, or if he was accompanied by his bear, as shown on the images.
With the bear, of course. A bear is so nice, so warm… She was very sick, the doctors had given up
treating her. So at the last minute, a bear came to push the door ajar with its paw, and entered my
grandmother’s home. Behind him, a little old man, all bent over with age, in a cowl. Much later, as I
thought it over, I understood what one human being asks from the others,
so little, a bit of warmth -and the ice would melt.

Alexei Remizov, Podstizhennymi glazami