Дедушка

 Всё чаще и чаще вспоминаю своего дедушку. Он был простым выходцем из народа. Да, именно - выходцем, потому что всегда стремился выйти из данности к красоте, к мудрости, к устройству и порядку.
Первое, что он сделал, ещё в юности - нашел людей Книги и примкнул к ним, хотя в то время, для простого обывателя такой шаг был подвигом. Не буду повторяться... А было интересно прочесть у Н.Бердяева, именно о том времени и даже той местности, о смельчаках, дерзнувших выйти из порочного круга серой рутины.

 Потом - дедушка переехал из села в город, где начал усердно трудиться. Работал на заводе, подрабатывал дома. Он разводил гладиолусы! Конечно - не без помощи бабушки. Кроме гладиолусов, которые пользовались большим спросом на базаре, они разводили салат, укроп и петрушку. На эти продукты был заказ из ресторана.
Так и жили потихоньку. Растили троих детей.
 Уже ближе к пенсии, дедушка занялся изготовлением кухонной мебели и рамок для картин. Всё было красивым и добротным. Что-то осталось до сих пор, навевая приятные воспоминания.

 Но самым главным у дедушки была его вера в Бога!
Он никого не убеждал, не учил, не заставлял - он просто жил христианином.
Помню, как он часто заходил к нам от друга, т.к. мы были как раз на пути домой, и ещё - потому что он любил разговаривать с нашей мамой, его невесткой.
Другом его был старший пресвитер по Харькову и области - Пётр Алексеевич Парчевский, он тоже жил на Елизаровой. Это была искренняя, тихая дружба. Они вместе преживали, молились и даже плакали... К слову - Парчевского многие помнят,( и по жизни, и даже по его фотографии, которую фотоателье на Сумской вывесило: как образец. Был он красивым, это - да) но скорее всего - никто не знал его близкого друга...
И тем не менее - и эта тайна открылась через нас, внуков, хотя бы самому узкому кругу.
Слово Божие исполняется!

 Только сейчас я осознаю его красивую, ненавязчивую проповедь для нас, внуков.
Часто, придя к нам в гости, он становился картинно перед нами и декламировал старинную песню:

"Ты куда идешь, скажи мне,
Странник с посохом в руке?" –
"Дивной милостью Господней
К лучшей я иду стране.
Через горы и долины,
Через степи и поля,
Чрез леса и чрез равнины
Я иду домой, друзья".

"Странник, в чем твоя надежда
В той стране твоей родной?"
-"Белоснежная одежда И венец весь золотой.
Там источники живые И небесные цветы,
Я иду за Иисусом Через жгучие пески".

"Страх и ужас не знакомы  Разве на пути тебе?" -
"Ах! Господни легионы Охранят меня везде!
Иисус Христос со мною, Он направит Сам меня
Неуклонною тропою Прямо, прямо в небеса".

"Так возьми ж меня с собою,
Где чудесная страна". –
"Да, мой друг, пойдем со мною, Вот тебе моя рука!
Недалеко уж родная И желанная страна.
Вера чистая, живая Нас введет с тобой туда".

   *   *   *

Вот и идём мы по этой дороге, вот и надеемся мы на Страну.
Ту, что открылась в сей жизни так многим...
"Дай же мне руку! - Пойдём-ка... А-ну!"
 
Я решила просмотреть авторство и мелодию этой песни. Она написана американской  поэтессой Фанни Кросби (Fanny Crosby) в 1859 году.  Судьба этой женщины заслуживает особого внимания. Она ослепла в раннем детстве, но жизнь её не сломила.
Мелодия - Виллиама Братбури - 1861 г.
К стыду нашему, хочу признаться, что той мелодии, которую я слышала в детстве, в русском исполнении я не нашла. Очень много искажений и переделок, а вот, в английском - всё в порядке. Можно прослушать и даже подпеть -

(оригинальное название песни - Whither, Pilgrims, Are You Going?)
Перевод на русский сделал Иван Степанович Проханов.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2wnIaBuTj0

Мир дому Вашему. Мир вашим сердцам.

 _________________________

Representative Text

1. Whither, pilgrims, are you going,
Going each with staff in hand?
We are going on a journey,
Going at our King’s command.
Over hills and plains and valleys,
We are going to His palace,
We are going to His palace,
Going to the better land;
We are going to His palace,
Going to the better land.

2. Fear ye not the way so lonely—
You, a little, feeble band?
No, for friends unseen are near us:
Holy angels round us stand.
Christ, our Leader, walks beside us:
He will guard and He will guide us,
He will guard and He will guide us,
Guide us to the better land;
He will guard and He will guide us,
Guide us to the better land.

3. Tell me, pilgrims, what you hope for
In that far-off better land.
Spotless robes and crowns of glory
From a Saviour’s loving hand.
We shall drink of life’s clear river,
We shall dwell with God forever,
We shall dwell with God forever
In that bright and better land;
We shall dwell with God forever
In that bright and better land.

4. Pilgrims, may we travel with you
To that bright, that better land?
Come and welcome, come and welcome,
Welcome to our pilgrim band.
Come, O come, and do not leave us,
Christ is waiting to receive us,
Christ is waiting to receive us
In that bright, that better land;
Christ is waiting to receive us
In that bright, that better land.

Source: The Westminster Hymnal for congregational
 and social use and for the Sunday School #252

Grandfather
A.Nazarenko
More and more often I remember my grandfather. He was a simple native of the people. Yes, precisely - a descendant, because he always sought to come out of the given to beauty, to wisdom, to device and order.
The first thing he did when he was still in his youth was to find the people of the Book and join them, although at that time such a step was a feat for the average man in the street. I will not repeat ... And it was interesting to read from N. Berdyaev, about that time and even that area, about brave men who dared to get out of the vicious circle of the gray routine.

Then - grandfather moved from the village to the city, where he began to work hard. He worked at the factory, worked at home. He made gladioli! Of course - not without the help of my grandmother. In addition to gladioli, which were in great demand in the market, they bred lettuce, dill and parsley. These products were ordered from the restaurant.
So they lived on the sly. Raised three children.
Already closer to retirement, grandfather started making kitchen furniture and picture frames. Everything was beautiful and good. Something remains until now, casting pleasant memories.

But the most important thing in the grandfather was his faith in God!
He did not convince anyone, did not teach, did not force him — he simply lived a Christian.
I remember how he often came to us from a friend, because we were just on the way home, and also because he loved talking to our mother and his daughter-in-law.
His friend was the senior presbyter in Kharkov and the region - Peter Alekseevich Parchevsky, he also lived on Elizarova. It was a sincere, quiet friendship. They pretended together, prayed and even cried ... By the way, many people remember Parchevsky, but most likely nobody knew his close friend ...
And yet - and this mystery was revealed through us, our grandchildren, even to the narrowest circle.
The word of God is fulfilled!

Only now I realize his beautiful, unobtrusive sermon for us, grandchildren.
Often, having come to visit us, he became a picture in front of us and recited an old song:

"Where are you going, tell me
A wanderer with a staff in his hand? "-
"Marvelous grace of the Lord
I go to the best country.
Through the mountains and valleys,
Across the steppes and fields
Through the forest and across the plains
I'm going home, friends. "

"Wanderer, what is your hope
In your native country? "
- "Snow-white clothing And the crown is all gold.
There are living sources And heavenly flowers,
I follow Jesus Through the burning sands. "

"Fear and horror are not familiar Is it on your way?" -
"Ah! Lord of the legions Guard me everywhere!
Jesus Christ is with me, He will direct Himself
Steady trail Straight, straight to heaven. "

"So take me with you,
Where is the wonderful country. "-
"Yes, my friend, come with me, Here is my hand for you!
Not far too native And the desired country.
Faith is pure, living We will be brought there with you. "

* * *

So we go along this road, so we hope to the Country.
The one that has opened in this life to so many ...
"Give me your hand! - Come on ... Ah, well!"

I decided to view the authorship and melody of this song. It was written by the American poet Fanny Crosby (Fanny Crosby) in 1859. The fate of this woman deserves special attention. She was blind in early childhood, but her life was not broken.
Melody - William Bratbury - 1861
To our shame, I want to admit that I did not find that melody that I heard as a child in Russian. A lot of distortion and alterations, but in English - everything is in order. You can listen and even sing along -

(original song name is Whither, Pilgrims, Are You Going?)
The translation into Russian was made by Ivan Stepanovich Prokhanov.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2wnIaBuTj0

Peace to your home. Peace to your hearts.

_________________________

Representative Text

1. Whither pilgrims are you going,
Going each with staff in hand?
We are going on a journey,
Going at our King's command.
Over hills and plains and valleys,
We are going to his palace,
We are going to his palace,
Going to the better land;
We are going to his palace,
Going to the better land.

2. Fear ye not the way so lonely—
You, a little, feeble band?
No, for friends unseen are near us:
Holy angels round us stand.
Christ, our Leader, walks beside us:
He will guard and he will guide us,
He will guard and he will guide us,
Guide us to the better land;
He will guard and he will guide us,
Guide us to the better land.

3. Tell me, pilgrims, what you hope for
In that far-off better land.
Spotless robes and crowns of glory
From a Saviour's loving hand.
We can drink of life's clear river,
We shall dwell with God forever,
We shall dwell with God forever
In that bright and better land;
We shall dwell with God forever
In that bright and better land.

4. Pilgrims, we can travel with you
To that bright, that better land?
Come and welcome, come and welcome,
Welcome to our pilgrim band.
Come, come, do not leave us,
Christ is waiting to receive us,
Christ is waiting to receive us
In that bright, that better land;
Christ is waiting to receive us
In that bright, that better land.

Source: The Westminster Hymnal for congregational
# 252