Monasture Saharna in Rezina area - Moldovan Mecca. Sometimes you overcomes some vague feeling that rushes soul wants to escape from everyday life, there is a desire to go away from the city crowded and molestation, stretch their wings and fly off somewhere free bird. Such moments are with everyone, someone often, someone less. But not the point. Just a desire recently led me to a wonderful place for its beauty - Moldovan Mecca in sugar. Of course, ashamed to live life in Moldova, and never go to one of the most famous ancient monasteries. It is not even in the faith or unbelief, but rather in the recognition. In the recognition of themselves, their roots, the recognition of the land, whither thou from childhood accustomed to think of their homeland ...
Spontaneity - the best friend of travelers, so, taking with him only drinking water, we have an hour after the decision went from Chisinau. The trip was not so long - only about a hundred kilometers, as difficult because of the road. But the pits and potholes quite recovered magnificent views over the hills and vineyards, the soaring hawks. At such moments you see how beautiful your country. Beautiful small lodges deaf villages, hiding behind rickety fences, orderly rows of walnut trees, stretched out in an honor guard along the roads, manicured fields and vineyards. Fast flying time for such reflections. There are already bank of the Dniester, a small town Rezeny for him and turn to hobbies and interests. Frankly, in anticipation of the cliffs, gorges and waterfalls, the soul pines for impatience. But only around a gently sloping bank of the Dniester River and rural houses - where is the promised tumult of nature? But still, quite inconspicuous road suddenly swerved a modest sign, and we were almost at the gates of the monastery, safely hidden from prying eyes in a valley between two very high cliffs.
The first thing that attracted attention - this is a car parked next to ours. For some reason the hood it was laid a tablecloth, a few dishes with delicious-smelling fare were arranged in perfect order. Far from the religious life, I've decided that these people have decided to bite the road. An, no, it turns out, one of the local priests performed the ritual consecration of the new car. Few observing, we decided nevertheless to proceed to implement the main purpose of the trip - visit the monastery. Or, rather, is a monastic complex, and after passing through a modern court functioning monastery of the Holy Trinity, you find yourself on a narrow path that leads straight to the rocky caves of the monastery. Different chronicles completely contradict each other on the date of the founding of this ancient monastery. Someone mentions the IX century, someone XIII century. Maybe it's not the. Simply by going to the cave, or rather bent double and somehow squeezing there, you feel no burden hanging over you, stratum of limestone, no. You seem immersed in time, plunges oneself into it with his head, and only hear the quiet poschelkivanie unwinding back centuries. It is difficult to provide a modern man that life - the narrow path, in summer and winter hermits made their way to the rocky chapel to pray, otmolit their sins and their long lost loved ones, ask the harvest and peace. And afterwards, wrapped in their tattered clothes, came back to kneel in the silence of their stone cells - and so the days, months and years until it came time to go into another world, paradise in the palaces, honored for years of tolerance and detachment from human concerns . What is the concentration of the faith, what a strong soul!
There is a legend connected with the convent way of life: once, while the elders were thinking where to start building a new church, one of them, the elder Bartholomew, was the Mother of God and pointed to the holy place. The old man could not believe in miracles, but on the spot where she had appeared before him, found traces of a bare female feet. It happened at the highest point of the modern church complex. And, though the elders did not follow the instructions of the Virgin, and the monastery stood in the valley, on the mountain in memory of the miraculous appearance of the church was built.
There is another phenomenon, whereby you can meet the pilgrims from the most remote areas. In the monastery kept the relics of St. Macarius. This old man came to the monastery at the age of twelve, grew up here and grew old. But come 1930 and the monastery decided to turn to female. Monakhov was transferred to the Novo-Neamt monastery, but my elder Macarius was unbearable without native walls. He returned and lived out his life at the monastery, there is dead and buried at the village cemetery. Already in the mid 90-ies the monks and peasants began to notice that something strange is going on the grave of the elder - despite the rain crack the earth, themselves light up the lamps. The body decided reburied within the monastery, but when opened the coffin. Were very surprised - no coffin, no clothes, no body decay process is not affected. Moreover, subtle pleasant aroma came from the body. It was decided to canonize Elder Macarius, and in 1995, this process was successfully completed. Now any visitor can come to the monastery and pray at the holy relics of the health and welfare.