Posted by: Ety W. | March 10, 2008

My Testimony 8: The Priest & His Wife

This is part 8 of “My Testimony”. If you want to start at the beginning, click here.

To tell you what happened next, I need to back track a little. I need to tell you about a brief encounter that had taken place about two years prior to The Confrontation. It took place shortly after I had joined up with the group in the Ozarks, ready to start looking for land.

When I first got there, some of the people that I met were a Russian Orthodox priest and his wife, along with their three children. They too were looking for land, also with the intention of starting a commune. Theirs’ however, was to be a Christian commune, or rather, community; a family monastery as they termed it. They were friendly, talkative folk, in some ways looking for the same thing I was; a life apart from a world headed in the wrong direction. They interested me in a spiritual way. Not because of their particular Christian beliefs, but because I was on a quest to find God, and God was something they talked about a lot. Their lives were quite centered around that. At the time, it didn’t occur to me to ask them anything about it. I just figured that if they had found God, then I could too.

They stayed in the area for a brief period of time as they looked for a suitable piece of land. At one point they wondered if they were supposed to join our group. Or our group join them. Neither of these things happened however. Eventually they moved on, not finding exactly what they were looking for. Even so they kept in touch with me, mostly through their periodic newsletters.

It was from their newsletters that I knew when they bought their own land, and where it was. I knew that two other families had joined them. So after I was turned out from my own commune, they were the first ones who came to mind as I wondered where I was going to go. I had their telephone number, but no one I knew had a telephone. I hitched a 13 mile ride into town and gave them a call.

I road the bus all night to get to them. I doubt that I slept very well. Fr. D were kind enough to come pick me up at the bus stop at 4 a.m. It was still dark when we arrived at their farm house, where I was greeted warmly by his wife. I remember sitting in their living room by the light of an Aladdin lamp as we talked. Dawn approached as I poured out my soul to them. Little did I know that very soon, the sun was going to rise not only over the little valley they lived in, but in my heart as well.Content copyright 2008 by If you find it anywhere else, it’s been stolen.
Click here for part 9.

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