different countries. But each summer they would meet up either in Kyiv or Sofia and often went on holiday together by the seaside. Their mothers continued to be very close.
That summer the cousins had the most interesting and illuminating adventure, but first, let me tell you about the two cousins in a bit more detail.
Ben
Ben lived in Kyiv and that year the plan was to go with his grandmother to spend the second half of the summer in Sofia. His mother saw them to the station. The train arrived at the platform a whole hour later than scheduled and when it was announced that the passengers could board, a scrum began to break out. But to their good fortune their carriage stopped right in front of them and all three, not to mention their three colossal bags, were able to get on to the carriage with the minimum of fuss. They had barely packed their things away in the four bed compartment when an old man with a military bearing and an even older woman joined them. They had tickets for the upper two bunks but they were very keen to have the lower ones. The old lady began to complain loudly about her old age and aches and pains. Ben and his grandmother exchanged glances and Ben offered his place to the old woman, who immediately quietened down.
Ben left the compartment and stood by the carriage window in the corridor. The whole of Kyiv lay before him. He loved his native city. It was the city where he had been born and where he had spent the whole of his childhood. Kyiv was sprawled on both sides of the River Dnepr and the whole place was awash with lush vegetation. Modern buildings stood next to ancient monuments. Kyiv was the home of the world famous Pechersk Lavra cave Monastery, St. Volodymyr’s Cathedral and the landscaped park of St. Sophia Cathedral. Ben often went to the caves at Pechersk Lavra with his mother. This was where many of the most holy monks or “Startsi”, as they are called in Kyiv, are buried. Huge crowds of people would pass through the underground tunnels in the hope that these holy men would somehow help them. But for some reason Ben always felt sorry for the “Startsi”. He understood that even after death these holy men gave these huge crowds their divine energy, helping and providing solace to each and every pilgrim.
"But who is helping them?” thought Ben, "they seem so helpless lying there.”
And as he went past each tomb he would either try to pat it or say some kind word to its occupant such as:
"Rest in peace.”
And he felt that this somehow made the "Startsi” happy.
But the whole of Kyiv is dressed in ancient finery. The noble city’s grey architectural tresses stretch from the Pechersk Lavra and St.Sophia Cathedral Park to the monuments erected to Bohdan Khmelnytsky, Saint Olga and Saint Volodymyr who converted the whole of ancient Rus to Christianity. Further on, down Andrew’s Descent and into the historic Podil region these tresses flow right into the river Dnieper. Of course the Dnieper is extremely old for it was God himself who created this broad and majestic river. As Gogol wrote:
"How wondrous is the Dnieper, when the weather is calm and its waves roll fluently on...”
In olden times the Cossacks used to navigate its stormy and powerful waves. But what had become of the mighty Dnieper now? It was as if some evil sorcerer had taken a huge sword to the river’s banks and created a wide sea in those places where she had been wounded. The Dnieper had become quite docile. This great Ukrainian river’s strength had dissipated long ago along with the country’s former pride and glory.
“How can people destroy such a wonderful piece of God’s work?" asked Ben.
“We can only hope that future generations, and perhaps you amongst them, will return the Dnepr to its former strength and glory,” Ben’s grandmother answered hopefully.
Beyond the window one landscape followed another. Kyiv’s outskirts, forests, fields, villages, stations and towns all streaked past like the thoughts through Ben’s mind.
He had travelled a lot and was already used to the fact that something nearly always happened during a journey. He recalled one incident particularly clearly - despite it having taken place four or five years previously. And now these memories came flooding back - maybe because he was now feeling that all was not totally well with the world, like some ill foreboding.
Ben remembered how once the train was rushing at huge speed as if running away from some sort of disaster. Towns, villages and autumnal landscapes flashed past the window. In their compartment the passengers were having a typical traveller’s conversation about life.
Ben was sitting in silence and thinking his own thoughts: about his upcoming meetings with friends, about football and whether his favourite team would win the championship. Suddenly a strange man appeared at the door. He was walking past but for some reason stopped at their door. Their eyes met. Ben thought to himself:
“What an unpleasant man, his eyes are like two black holes.”
There really was something very unpleasant about his appearance.
“Maybe he’s a terrorist?” thought Ben.
It was as if the man was able to read Ben's thoughts because an evil sneer passed over his face.
“How unhappy he must be," thought Ben.
And Ben’s guardian Angel, immediately reacted to Ben’s thoughts. The man was empty and utterly without a soul, therefore it was very easy for the Angel to enter into him. Straight away the strange man began to think back to his childhood, turned round and quickly stepped out of the compartment. He went to the vestibule between the train’s carriages and opened the door to get some fresh air. Suddenly an immensely strong wind lifted him up from the floor, spinning him upwards and out of the train. The angel left the empty human shell as quickly as he had entered it and the strange man fell like a stone to the ground. When he landed there was a large explosion. The train passed by so quickly that none of the passengers even realised what had happened and thought nothing of it. Of course, Ben was none the wiser either, but he clearly felt that something had happened, but what exactly was it? The conversations in the compartment carried on until late in the evening. And it was only then when Ben finally went to sleep that he saw his guardian Angel in a dream. And he explained to Ben what had happened. In the morning Ben told his dream about the terrorist wanting to blow up the train and that the forces of good had hurled him out of the carriage to a safe distance from the train. Nobody believed the boy although everyone remembered hearing an explosion. But his grandmother gave the following explanation:
"At the very moment when you felt sorry for him the Angel instantly entered into the murderer. And then the terrorist had his first humane thought since entering the train – he thought about his childhood. The terrorist realised with terror that he too would die in the explosion. He became terrified by this thought and opened the door to get a breath of fresh air. But the Angel and the forces for good threw the murderer out of the train.”
“But why did the Angel not enter into the terrorist earlier? Why did he only enter him after I had felt sorry for him and the fact that he was about to die?”
"Because the goodness in your soul was transferred into him."
"Isn't he my enemy?"
“Yes, but it is a Christian teaching to feel sorry even for a murderer and then it is God who will deal with your enemy as he sees fit."
“What about those who send these murderers out into the world?”
“They are the emissaries of evil and they are all mired in evil. And as the ancient prophet said: “Whoever throws a stone upwards, throws it at his own head.”
“But they need to be stopped!”
“We will stop them. We will most definitely stop them. And God will help us and justice will reign again. The chaos of evil will never overcome a civilisation that is blessed with love.”
"Never let evil overcome you but conquer evil with good,” concluded Grandmother with wise words from the Bible.
Ben remembered this story because there was something about their fellow travellers in the compartment that he didn
't quite like. He climbed up on to the top bunk and was once again immersed in his own thoughts. Everything seemed well. He had finished the school year okay.
“Okay?” he asked himself.
Well, yes there hadn't been any big bust ups with his teachers.
During his lessons all sorts of things had happened, there were times when it seemed that he would snap. But then unexpectedly help would seem to come to him as if out of nowhere from above. Ben remembered just such an incident on his way to school.
On that morning Ben had been in poor spirits. He was travelling to school like a soldier to battle. But this was not the sort of battle where one is fighting for one’s land and family. Ben was defending his dignity. It was very difficult for him. Of course the main thing was to attain knowledge as his family was always telling him. But it was the way that his knowledge and work was being marked that really annoyed Ben. If you do all your homework for each lesson and then somehow or somewhere made one slip then that was it – the end – a fail would be guaranteed. It was upsetting because often all the work you had done would be forgotten and count for nothing.
Ben was thus debating this with himself, and evidently had said something out loud. Because sitting next to him was a young pleasant looking woman who looked at Ben closely and said:
“You’re right the marks aren’t really what is important. You must study for the love of it and to satisfy your curiosity. It’s not important what marks the teacher gives you or what marks you were hoping for. The main thing is the mark that you give yourself.”
“Are you reading my mind? I thought I hadn’t said anything,” answered Ben.
“I can read minds a little, although I could read your face like a book. I will give you a piece of advice: imagine what you would like to happen at school with each teacher and in each lesson. If something doesn't turn out as you wanted, you mustn’t lose yourself control, otherwise you will have started everything over from scratch.”
Ben was about to ask the woman a question when she quickly got up to get off the bus saying as a parting shot: “Remember to use your imagination today, right now.”
It was with difficulty that Ben got off at the stop right in front of his school. All the school’s windows were lit up and in the cold winter dawn it somehow looked cosy and inviting. Ben joined the torrent of other students making their way up the school steps.
On the second floor not far from the sports hall stood his sports teacher. He was holding a football exactly like the ones used in the Champion's League. Ben couldn't hold himself back and ran straight up to him.
“Are we going to play football in our lesson today?”
“If you manage to get two teams of five people, we’ll play.”
Ben joyfully shouted:
“We’ll organise it, we’ll definitely organise it!”
Good Lord, do dreams and wishes really come true?
Running headlong into his class, Ben immediately got the lads together.
“There is a chance that we might be allowed to play football if we can get two teams together. But where are we going to get enough boys to play, looks like we're going to have to get some girls on board as well. I do have one idea; our team will be called “Ben’s friends". What do you think?”
Ben’s friends clapped their hands in glee:
“Brilliant!”
The sports lesson went swimmingly. Ben's team thrashed its rivals 6:1 and Ben was over the moon with the result. He loved football but due to his heavy schedule at school he had had to give up football club.
The rest of his lessons likewise went by without a hitch. Ben succeeded in not withdrawing into his shell if something displeased him and even when he was asked after a chemistry test:
“Did someone help you with these questions?"
And the questions had been pretty tricky, the whole class had taken over an hour to solve them, Ben simply smiled and replied:
“A little bit.”
The teacher was satisfied with this honest answer.
Then, during his Ukrainian language lesson he was set the task of describing the Icon of the Virgin. The question was a hard one. No-one had ever seen this icon, which was kept in the museum. Ben sat in front of his blank sheet of paper for a full ten minutes unable to make a start. And then suddenly his mobile phone rang. Ben could feel it in his pocket because he had put it on vibrate. It was his mother calling because he could see her eyes in her picture icon. Ben was unable to answer but suddenly the eyes on the telephone took on a life of their own and the image of a beautiful woman appeared on the screen with a soft gaze that illuminated everything with love, goodness and charity. Ben understood that this was the image of Mary from the Icon and immediately the words flowed and it was as if the essay wrote itself.
"One miracle seems to be following another today and it’s clearly all down to that mysterious woman on the bus. Like some sort of fairy godmother!”
Excited and pleased but a little tired after his remarkable day Ben set off home. He got on the bus and was grateful to find a free seat and sit down. After a couple of stops a lot of people got on. Ben spotted one of his teachers with whom he’d had a few problems in the past. Once she even managed to give him bad marks for a piece of homework that he had done very well. She had a heavy bag in each hand and another even bigger one over her shoulder. Right now, she didn’t look remotely intimidating – just plain tired. Ben offered her his place. She sat down and perched her things on her knees carefully protecting them with her arms. Suddenly out of nowhere Ben heard someone say:
"Good lad!”
The voice seemed familiar... Ben looked around and didn’t see anyone. Perhaps he had just imagined it.
And suddenly out of the window he saw the woman who had been on the bus with him that morning. She was looking at him and gave him a wave.
“She’s like the all Seeing Eye and she wasn’t even on the bus. I must tell the lads about this. And that’s not the only thing," thought Ben.
Ben was already getting quite close to his stop when he saw his friends from school waiting for him.
“We were waiting for you Ben."
“I’ve been thinking. Let’s go to the computer centre and talk about everything."
Ben said with a conspiratorial wink to his friends.
“I’ve had the most incredible adventures today and it all started with my bus journey this morning.”
And Ben and the boys set off in good heart to meet their next adventure. What a day that was!
In the words of that most wise and holy man Sirakhov: “My son, devote yourself to your studies in your youth and you will find wisdom when you reach your grey haired old age.”
And that is what Ben's grandmother had taught him.
Back in the train Ben made himself more comfortable and tried to fall asleep. But he just couldn’t drop off no matter how he tossed and turned on his bunk. Sleep wouldn’t come easily. Something was evidently bothering him. He stuck his head over his bunk, looked down and was amazed by the sight that met him. On the bunk beneath him where the old woman had been lying sat an enormous old crow. One of its wings had been injured and was hanging uselessly by its bony yellow leg. There was something clearly quite evil about the crow and it gave out weird cries. The crow's body was turned towards Ben's grandmother and appeared to be trying to peck her with its huge yellow beak. Grandmother wasn't sleeping; she was following the crow's every move and her expression and body language was making it quite clear that she would beat off any attack. Startled, Ben shouted to his grandmother:
“Watch out!”
The crow spun round to face Ben and cawed at him malevolently. He glanced down a minute later and the old woman was sat on the bunk again.
“Where’s the crow?” Ben asked.
“You’d better sleep,” the old woman hissed, “and don’t go looking where you sh
ouldn’t or you’ll be getting frightened and imagining things."
All night the old woman continued to transform herself into the nasty horrible crow, constantly trying to peck at grandmother and whenever Ben stuck his head out she would hiss at him. Just before morning Ben lost the struggle to stay awake and finally dropped off to sleep. When he woke up he noticed that the train had stopped and that their fellow travellers were no longer with them. This was the last station before the border. The platform was empty and Ben saw the old man and woman making their way towards the station. The old woman was walking fairly briskly considering her health.
“Thank God they’ve gone,” said Ben with some relief.
Grandmother opened her eyes. It was obvious that she had only just managed to fall asleep before the train had stopped.
“Did she manage to peck you?” Ben asked.
“Who?”
“The crow."
“So you saw everything?”
“So it did really happen? How could it have?”
“It’s possible that that old woman was paying me a 'compliment'. She's a very powerful, high ranking witch."
“But we helped them.”
“Well, what can you do? When it all comes down to it even a witch is a human being. And she didn’t manage to do anything because the Guardian Angel was close at hand looking after us.”
Soon the train arrived at the frontier with all its border guards and other officials. It was only after that, while the train passed through Romania that Ben and grandmother were able to sleep off their anxious night. Ben clearly felt out of sorts. Something was bothering him. He thought of home and a flood of unhappy recollections was released. Things were not going smoothly at home. Although nobody was arguing out loud, it was clear things were not easy between the grown-ups. It was as if some sort of invisible battle was going on. And Ben so wanted that they would all be friends again. He had found it very difficult to take up any definite position. Ben simply didn’t have the strength. And, of course, it was much easier to leave things as they were. Nevertheless, he loved everyone in their own way and justified each of them as far as he could. After all it was up to the grown-ups to make the decisions! They’re all behaving like ostriches, hiding their heads in the sand and waiting to see what will happen. But what was to be done?
“Lord, if only someone would come to help us," thought Ben wearily.
Just before arriving in Sofia Ben fell asleep and had a remarkable dream. Ben was no longer a boy but a small helpless little chick, sitting in his nest and curiously looking out at a puddle lying at the foot of his tree. Rays of sun were playing on the grass and butterflies, bumble bees and dragonflies were all flying overhead. Bugs and beetles pottered around the undergrowth, while a bright green lizard flashed past followed by a slow
The Stolen Star Page 3