Chapter 20 week of misery

in the week of misery ① "Go, the church bell is striking. But be careful not to be naughty in church, or God will punish you." My mother gave me a few pennies for pocket money, and immediately left me and ran to the kitchen with the cold iron.I knew very well that I was not to eat or drink after I went to confession, so I managed to eat a large loaf of white bread and drink two glasses of water before I left the house.It's totally spring on the street.The road is covered with brown sludge, and in some places it has been paved and walkable, and a future road is beginning to take shape.Roofs and sidewalks are dry.Under the wall, among the withered grass that had rotted last year, tender green grass grew.The muddy water was rushing in the ditch, making a pleasant gurgling sound and foaming.The sun didn't think it was dirty, and shot into the water.

Splinters of wood, fine hay, and sunflower-seed husks were quickly carried away by the water, sucked into the eddies, and stuck to the muddy foam.Where are the splinters going, where are they going?They probably flow from ditches into rivers, from rivers into the sea, and from the sea into the ocean. . . . I set out to fantasize about this long and terrible voyage, but my fantasies were interrupted before reaching the sea. At this time a street carriage came.The driver yelled at the horse with his lips pressed together, and pulled the reins, but he didn't see the two street children hanging from the back of the carriage.I would like to join them too, but when I think of confession, I feel that these two naughty boys are great sinners.

"At the final judgment, God will ask them: Why are you so naughty and bully a poor coachman?" I thought. "They will justify themselves, but the devil will catch them and send them to the fire that burns forever. But if they will obey their parents and give each beggar a penny or a roll, then God will have mercy on them, Let them go to heaven." The steps in front of the church were dry and soaked in the sun.No one was on the steps.I hesitantly opened the door and walked into the church.I felt gloomy and gloomy here more than ever, and in such gloom, I suddenly felt guilty and small.The first thing that caught my eye was a large cross with a crucifix engraved with the Virgin Mary and Saint John on both sides.The chandeliers and candlesticks were covered in mourning black, the small lamps shone dimly and timidly, and the sun seemed to pass through the church windows on purpose to keep its light from entering.The Virgin and the beloved disciples of Jesus Christ are only drawn in profile, silently watching the unbearable suffering, not noticing that I am here.I feel, to them, an outsider, a superfluous, insignificant being, who can be of no use to them either by words or deeds, and myself a nasty and dishonest naughty boy who can only Naughty, wild, gossip.I think of all the people I have ever known, and feel that they are small, stupid, and vicious, and it would be impossible to lessen even a little the dreadful misery I am seeing now.The darkness in the church grew thicker and darker, and the Virgin and Saint John seemed to me alone.

Behind the candelabra stood Prokofy Ignacich, a veteran who served as assistant to the elders of the church.He frowned, stroked his beard, lowered his throat, and explained to an old woman: "Morning prayers will be held tonight after evening prayers. Tomorrow the bell will strike for prayer at seven o'clock. Do you understand? Seven o'clock." " Between the two large pillars on the right, at the beginning of the side altar of the great Varvara martyr, next to a screen, those who come to confess are waiting in line. ... Mitka was there too, a ragged boy with badly cropped hair, protruding ears and small, wicked eyes.He was the son of the widowed maid, Nastasya.The boy was quarrelsome and a robber, snatching apples from the peddler's tray and more than once my goat snatcher.He looked at me angrily, and I thought he was gloating that it was he, not me, who went behind the screen first.I couldn't help being angry, and tried not to look at him, and I was secretly troubled, because the sin of this naughty boy was about to be forgiven.

In front of him stood a well-dressed and beautiful woman, wearing a hat with a white feather in it.She was obviously excited and waited nervously. She was so excited that half of her face flushed, as if she had a fever. I waited five minutes, ten minutes. ...from behind the screen came out a well-dressed young man with a long, thin neck and high rubber rain boots.I thought to myself, when I grow up, I will also buy such a pair of rain boots, I must buy it!The woman shivered and went behind the screen.Now it was her turn to confess. Through the gap between the two screens, I could see the woman go up to the lectern, knelt down and prostrated, then got up, looked away from the priest, and waited with bowed head.The priest stood there with his back to the screen, so I could only see his curly white hair, the chains of the cross on his chest, and his broad back.His face was invisible.He sighed, without looking at the woman, and spoke quickly, shaking his head, sometimes raising his throat, sometimes lowering his voice.The woman listened meekly, like a guilty person, and answered curtly, with her eyes on the ground.

"What crime is she committing?" I thought to myself, looking respectfully at her gentle and beautiful face. "God, forgive her sins! Give her happiness!" But at this moment the priest took a shawl and put it over her head. "I, the incompetent priest..." came his voice. ... "By the power God has given me, forgive and forgive all your sins. ..." The woman knelt down, kowtowed, kissed the cross, and withdrew.Both sides of her face flushed now, but her countenance was calm, cheerful, and gay. "Happy now," I thought, looking at her, and at the priest who had forgiven her sins. "But how happy must be a man who has the right to forgive the sins of others."

Now it was Mitka's turn, but suddenly I hated the robber so much that I wanted to go behind the screen before him, I wanted to be the first. ... He saw what I was doing, so he hit me on the head with the candle in his hand, and I respected him. For half a minute, I heard only the sound of gasping and someone breaking the candle. ...Someone took us apart.My enemy timidly walked up to the reading table, knelt down and kowtowed without bending his knees, but I didn't see what happened to him afterwards.I thought that it would be my turn as soon as Mitka was done, and things blurred and floated before my eyes.Mitka's protruding ears swelled and fused with the back of his dark-haired skull, the priest swayed, and the floor seemed to heave.

... The priest's voice sounded: "I, the incompetent priest, . . . " Then I went behind the screen.I can't feel the ground under my feet, as if I'm walking on air. . . . I went up to the lectern which was higher than me.The cold and tired face of the priest flashed into my eyes for a moment, but then all I could see were the sleeves with the light blue lining, the crucifix, and the edge of the lectern.I felt the abbe's closeness, smelled his vestments, heard his stern voice, and the side of my face that was close to him burned into a fever. ... I was so excited that I didn't listen to many words, but I answered all his questions sincerely, but my tone of voice became a little weird, and it didn't seem to be my own.I thought of the lonely Madonna and Saint John, the crucifix and my mother, and I wanted to cry and ask forgiveness.

"What's your name?" asked the priest, covering my head with the soft shawl. How light and happy I am now! Sin is gone, I have become holy, I have the right to go to heaven!I think I smell like the vestments too.I came out from behind the screen, went to register my name with the deacon, and wiped my nose with my sleeve.The darkness in the church seemed to be no longer gloomy, and I looked at Mitka calmly and without malice. "What's your name?" asked the deacon. "Feja." "Where's your father's name?" "have no idea." "What's your father's name?"

"Ivan Petrovich." "What's your last name?" I didn't say anything. "How old are you?" "Almost nine years old." When I got home, I went to bed quickly so as not to see them eating supper, closed my eyes, and imagined if I had suffered at the hands of some Herod or Dioskor, living in the wilderness like an elder How nice it would be to feed bears like Serafim, live in a small monastery, eat holy bread, distribute property to the poor, and walk to Kyiv.I heard the table being set in the dining-room. It was dinner, and they were going to have cold dishes, cabbage pies, and sea bass.How I want to eat it!I would suffer anything, leave my mother and live in the moors, and feed the bears myself, if only I had at least one cabbage pie first!

"God, wash away my sins," I prayed, pulling the quilt over my head. "Protect the angel, protect me, and tell me to get rid of the temptation of the devil!" The next day, Thursday, I awoke with a mind as bright and pure as a sunny spring day.I entered the church with great joy and majesty, feeling worthy of communion, and wearing a beautiful and expensive shirt, remade from a silk dress my grandmother had left me.Everything in the church exudes joy, happiness, and spring.The faces of the Virgin and Saint John were not so sad as they were yesterday.The faces of those who came to the Eucharist lit with hope, as if the past had been forgotten and forgiven.Mitka, too, had her hair combed and dressed for the holidays.I looked at his protruding ears happily, and in order to show that I didn't dislike him at all, I said to him: "You look pretty today, if your hair wasn't standing up like this, if you weren't dressed so poorly, then everyone would be happy." Don't think of your mother as a washerwoman, but as a lady. Come to my house by Easter, and we'll play goats." Mitka looked at me with distrust, and quietly shook his fist at me. The woman yesterday was very beautiful in my opinion.She wore a light blue dress with a large shiny horseshoe brooch pinned to her chest.I envied her, and thought that when I grow up, I must marry such a woman, but I remembered that marriage is a shameful thing, so I stopped thinking about it and walked straight to the choir, where a chant in the church The priest is already there chanting scriptures. "Notes" ①Christian holiday, the week before Easter. ②It refers to the judgment of God on the world at the end of the world in Christian legend. ③According to the "Bible" legend, Herod was a cruel Jewish king. ——Russian text editor's note ④The Patriarch of ancient Alexandria was convicted by the church for apostasy and protection of heresy. ——Russian text editor's note ⑤ Seraphim (1760-1833), a monk in the Sarovsky wilderness in Russia.In the nineteenth century Russia printed many pamphlets and folk paintings describing his religious life. ——Russian text editor's note