Located in high desert-like mountains up a muddy dirt road we traveled. It was a cold and gladsome Christmas Eve, my first Orthodox Christmas in an Orthodox Monastery. Something happened that I will always have in my memory.
When I look back at that night--how beautiful it was to me. The cold church was crowded with people. It was only lit by candle light making everything dim and shadowy but the light we gazed upon was bright, soft and full of peace.
There was a choir of monks and a separate choir of nuns. The priest would utter entreaties to God in a loud voice -- "Help us, save us, keep us O God by Thy grace". The two choirs antiphonally answered singing: "Lord have mercy". Over and over we cried to God for help.
How strange that night was. Perhaps we were waiting for something we could not see. We had an expectation and in the deepest part of our souls we awaited the fulfillment.
At that time I was not aware of what was going on. As the hours went by standing in the same place my heart grew despondent. I asked myself why I didn't "feel anything", why didn't I receive from God spiritual joy on this quiet solemn night. I expected something to happen in my soul but nothing came. My legs were getting weaker and I was becoming more upset with myself. My faith was very weak.
As I grew too tired to stand I decided to find a place to sit. I walked down to the lower church. There were two narrow cement staircases on the same wall. One led up to the main church where the services were held, and the other led outside to the front of the church. I came in from the outside, walked down the staircase and sat on the third step from the bottom.
Perhaps I sighed, I don't remember. I covered my face with my hands and proceeded to sit. Soon after I looked up and saw a figure sitting on the opposite staircase. I recognized the dark shadow as a nun. She was pressed against the cold wall, not showing anything of her face, weeping involuntarily and clutching her knees tightly. As much as she tried to conceal her sobbing, it was not at all possible. Her cry reached the depth of her soul. I did not know who it was. It might as well have been an angel in my eyes.
I was ashamed. I felt like I was intruding. As quietly as I could I walked up the staircase, slipped out the door and went back to church.