from the book of Geronda Gregory (Zumis) "PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH I KNOW".

There are places where there is no human habitation, but God Himself looks after nature, where forest animals live in their holes, where a peasant makes his way along the paths, sitting on a donkey or a mule and quietly purring a song about his worries; places where you could enjoy the shady foliage of trees and the twittering of birds. And when roads are laid in such places, a man who loves his mother, the earth, cries and weeps. Our fathers even felt sorry for the dust they walked on, and we mercilessly bulldozed the places in which, like stacks, God poured earth and formed hills and mountains. When I see wide roads paved for our convenience on Holy Mountain, I get the feeling that we have mutilated the ridge of the old Athos. This happens every time a new road is laid: first we mark it with a clearing, even the oldest trees are cut down. In the old days, trees fell with an ax, and with this method of felling, both the tree and the lumberjack hurt. The ax went up and down with more sympathy. Today, a cruel chainsaw seems to be waging a chemical war with the forest kingdom: you see how tall oaks mow like reeds, and the noise of cars does not allow us to hear the groans of nature.

During one such paving, an old plane tree appeared on our way. Hegumen said:

- Guys, is it possible to go around it? Look, although it is old, it is still blooming."

“No way,” the lumberjacks said.

The abbot’s request was not respected, considering it a manifestation of sentimentality. A chainsaw began to saw a huge plane tree trunk. When it reached the middle, a cry of pain from some small animal was heard from the tree. Soon, like a corpse, the plane-tree thundered to the ground with a roar, and then a scene of love for children and self-sacrifice to the death of a small forest animal appeared to everyone. She made a mink in the hollow of a freshly sawn tree. Despite the noise of the villainous machine, she did not run away, saving her life, but sat down over her cubs like an eagle to protect and guard them, completely defenseless before the teeth of the saw. The unfortunate mother was mortally wounded in the stomach and, instead of a farewell kiss, sprinkled the children with her blood.

The self-sacrifice of the little animal touched us all deeply, but our attempts to help him led to nothing. This mother was a forest mouse.

 from the book of Geronda Gregory (Zumis) "PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH I KNOW".