How they celebrated Easter in Rus'

The main holiday of the Christian calendar is deeply captured in the folk soul. He found a bright reflection among poets and writers. The fact that even during the time of aggressive atheism, the struggle against religion and believers it was still noted and quite widely noted - the Easter cakes, prepared Easter, painted eggs and wore them to sanctify them into the church.

According to ancient popular belief, on Easter Christ in a beggarly mowing is wandering on the earth and enters the houses of people in the form of a wanderer or a beggar in order to experience human mercy. Therefore, festive dishes in Rus' have always been prepared in abundance in order to be able to treat everyone who came to the house. In the old days, on Easter days, it was especially necessary to take care of the poor and patients, as well as people who were in prison. Gifts were sent to hospitals and prisons - Easter cakes, pies, eggs.

- Easter in Russian poetry

- How Muscovites celebrated Easter before the revolution

Cheese and eggs are the first food that believers eat after a 40 -day post. Easter testicular is a symbol of the resurrection of Christ. The egg painted with red paint is a sign of Easter joy about the victory over death. The custom of Easter to exchange eggs, according to legend, is obliged to St. Marya Magdalene, who, imagining before the emperor Tevil, brought him a red testicle with a greeting: "Christ is risen!"

The main holiday

Easter is the most important holiday of the Christian year, which is based on the gospel narrative of the miraculous resurrection of Jesus Christ, crucified on the cross. The disciples and followers of Christ perceived His death as an atonement for the sins of the world, and the Resurrection as a victory over the power of evil and the gift of God of eternal life. Jesus Christ, sacrificing himself on the cross, gave people deliverance from eternal death and curse - the inevitable consequences of human sin.

The oldest holiday

Easter is not only the most important, but also the most ancient of all Christian holidays. It was established and noted already during the apostles. The ancient church under the name of Easter combined two memories: the first - about suffering, and the second - about the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Easter celebrations were dedicated to both the days preceding the triumph of the Resurrection of Christ and the following. Depending on the nature of the memory, each stage of the holiday had its own name - Easter of suffering (otherwise, Easter godmother) and Easter of the Resurrection. The first stage of the holiday was marked by fasting and repentance, and the second - festive celebrations.

Easter for the first Christians

In the first centuries, Christian communities celebrated Easter at different times. In the East, in the Asia Minor Churches, she was celebrated simultaneously with the Easter of Jew - 14 Nisan according to the Jewish calendar, regardless of what day of the week the holiday fell. The Western Church celebrated Easter on the first Sunday after the spring equinox. The first attempt to establish for all churches a single rule of celebration of Easter was undertaken by St. Polikarp, Bishop of Smirnsky, in the middle of the II century. But the final decision on the unified celebration of Easter was made only at the First Ecumenical Council, which was held in Nikai (modern G. Iznik, Turkey) in 325. The Cathedral decided that Easter should be celebrated on the first Sunday after the spring equinox and full moon, provided that it never coincides with the Jewish Easter. Thus, Easter is a mobile holiday that falls every year on different numbers from March 22 to April 25. These numbers are determined according to a special table, Easter, which indicates the dates of Easter celebration for many years to come.

Easter worship

Easter worship is particularly solemn. Before its beginning, all the lamps are lit in the temples, and the people who are in the temple stand with candles as a sign of special spiritual joy. Since the Apostles, Easter worship has been committed at night. Like the ancient chosen people, who was awake on the night of their disposal of Egyptian slavery, Christians are also awake into the sacred night of the Resurrection of Christ for them.

The service begins with the procession - a solemn procession around the temple with a lantern, banners, the gospel, the icons of the resurrection of Christ and the Mother of God, with the singing of the canon of Easter. Believers welcome each other with the words "Christ is risen!", To which the answer follows: "Verily risen!". At the end of the worship, the consecration of Artos (Greek "bread") is performed - a large prosphora with the image of the cross or the resurrection of Christ, which is then installed in the temple on an anal, along with the icon of the holiday. Artos is a reminder that Jesus Christ with His Cross and Resurrection has become the true bread of eternal life for Christians. On a bright Saturday, Artos is crushed and distributed to all believers.

The main Easter celebrations continue throughout the next week, called a bright week, and end on the eighth day - on Sunday (second Sunday after Easter).

Easter in Russian poetry

The bright holiday of the Resurrection of Christ received a reflection in the verses of many Russian poets - different eras and different creative directions. Apollo Maykov, Vladimir Solovyov, Ivan Bunin, Konstantin Balmont, Mikhail Kuzmin, Sergey Yesenin and others turned to this topic. Here are just a few examples:

Vladimir Solovyov

Risen

Rays of brilliant regiment behind the regiment
Spring young day sends us
But it strengthens the quiet -headed
The stronghold of ice night shadow.

The earth turns black between the snow,
But this mourning is amused
When with victorious rays
Spring of the coming he is flooded.

Souls of ripened heyday
Snow gray curls will not hold back
Only this mixture of winter and summer
It will illuminate the gaze of your eyes.

Apollo Maikov

Christ is risen!

Blagovest is buzzing everywhere,
Of all the churches, people are falling.
The dawn is already looking from heaven ...
Christ is risen! Christ is risen!

The cover of snow has already been removed from the fields,
And rivers are torn from the shackles,
And the near green forest ...
Christ is risen! Christ is risen!

Here the earth wakes up
And the fields are dressed
Spring goes, full of miracles!
Christ is risen! Christ is risen!

Princess Elena Gorchakova

Resurrection of Christ

On Easter Day, playing joyfully, he took a high lark,
And in the sky blue, disappearing,
The Song of the Resurrection sang.

And the song was repeated loudly
And the steppe, and the hill, and the dark forest.
“Wake up, earth,” they broadcast, -
Wake up: Your king, your god is risen!

Wake up, mountains, valleys, rivers,
Praise the Lord from heaven.
Death defeated them forever -
Wake up and you, green forest.

Snowdrop, silver lily of the valley,
Violet - bloom again
And send a fragrant anthem
To those whose commandment is love. "

Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich Romanov (K.R.)

***

For you, talked, thanks!
The night passed and the new dawn
Yes, marks the world update
In the hearts of people Lyubov grief.

Praise gentlemen from heaven
And sing constantly:
The world of his miracles is executed
And the glory is unspeakable.

Praise a host of barren forces
And angelic faces:
From the darkness of mournful graves
The Light shone the great.

Praise the Lord from heaven,
Hills, cliffs, mountains!
Hosanna! The fear disappeared,
Our eyes brighten.

Praise God, seas Dal
And the ocean is vast!
Let all sorrow be silent
And the murmur is hopeless!

Praise gentlemen from heaven
And glorify, people!
Risen Christ!
Christ is risen!
And death was violated forever!

Sergey Yesenin

Easter blessings

The bell is dozing
I woke up the fields
She smiled at the sun
Sleepy earth.

Blows rushed
To the blue heavens,
It is heard loudly
Voice in the forests.

Hid behind the river
Pale moon
She ran loudly
Frisky wave.

Quiet Valley
Drove off a dream
Somewhere behind the road
The ringing freezes.

Konstantin Balmont

Rerbs

Werries are covered
Wind heated,
Gently cherished
Morning light.

Easter branches,
Directly typical,
They look funny
Whispering with bees.

The cemetery is peaceful
Shouts with flowers,
Clear singing
Pours in waves.

Lightly grinding
Easter songs,
They are cherished by the heart
The eternal are covered.

Blagovest

I was waiting for him with understandable impatience
The saint's delight in his soul is stored,
And through the harmony of prayer stumps
He stirred me with a thunder of heaven.

From ancient times, the blessing of the Russian land
The prophet in the voice of the sky broadcast to us;
So the sun is a spring ray sometimes
To the heyday of nature illuminated the path.

To you, Oh God, to your throne,
Where is the truth, the truth is brighter than our words,
I keep the path to your verb
What I hear through the ringing of bells.

Ivan Bunin

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen! Again with a hare
The shadow is growing for a long night
I got light over the ground again
For a new life, a new day.

The thickets of Bor are still blackened;
Even in his shadow of his raw,
Like mirrors, there are lakes
And breathe freshness of the night;

Still in blue valleys
Fogs float ... but look:
Already burning on mountain ice floes
Rays Fiery Dawn!

They are shining in the vex.
Unattainable, like a dream
Where the voices of the earth are silent
And the beauty is immaculate.

But, with every hour approaching
Because of the alent peaks,
They will stir up, flaring up
And in the darkness of forests, and deeper the valleys;

They will grow up in the glory of the desired
And they will renew from the heights of heaven,
That the day has come,
That God is truly risen!

Alexey Pleshcheev

***

How the sun shines brightly,
Like the sky, the depths are light,
How fun and loud
Bells are buzzing.

Infirmly in God's temples
Sing "Christ is risen!"
And the sounds of a marvelous song
They reach heaven.

Mikhail Kuzmin

Easter

The fields are black and flat,
Again, I am God and nobody!
Tomorrow Easter, the smell of wax,
The smell of warm cakes.

Before my life flowed like this
Bright change of exact days,
Now there is one balance
Somehow joyfully pain.

After all, winter, spring and summer,
Easter, post and Christmas,
If you can delve into this,
In a drop of small - a deity.

Albeit finely, albeit stupid,
Let us be proud of will
But in the throat of mushroom soup -
The joy of the same series.

What I remembered cute heart,
Then do not shame with oblivion.
Sweeter to us dull fasting
Sweet poison of spring dawn.

Will be trepidable and spawning
Rush
And on red, red hill
They will get married like everyone else.

Pies on name day,
Children, the sun ... Live peacefully,
To the boards of the house
Put the cute body.

In this life of God affection
As if embroidery is visible
And now you, Easter, Easter,
We were left alone.

You won't forget it,
As your mind you are not wise.
You will cooled warm heart -
Heat the bells rings.

And they sing, bright, not strict:
Dili-Bim, Dili-Bom Bom!
You are confused on the road
So come back to the dear house.

How Muscovites celebrated Easter before the revolution

The remarkable evidence of how the most important Orthodox holiday was met in the Fervolonal capital was left in his book "Summer of the Lord" Russian writer Ivan Shmelev. This is how he talks about it:

“The post is already at the end of the end, spring is coming. The starlings have come over the garden,” the coachman heard them, “and the larks also flew for forty martyrs. Every morning I see them in the dining room: they look from the crackers with highlights in the eyes, and the ruddy wings are braided on the back. They are sorry for them, and I start with the tail. The poppy “crosses” were baked on the cross -worship - and again she, a huge puddle in the yard.

- call here to call here! ..

Vasil-Vasilich runs cautiously, shooting an eye on a puddle. I know what he thinks about: "Well, swear ... And last year they cursed, but still can’t cope with her!"

- You are the senior orderer - or ... what? Again you have it? Barky drive it on it?!

“How many times I fell asleep, sir! ..” Vasil -Vasilich puddle looks around, as if he first sees, “and he was overwhelmed with manure, and as a crushed stone, but she was not done!” Suck - and even more will become. From under itself, or something, does it let go? .. The spocation is so, a toe ... Yes, it is nothing, sir, it will come to the summer, and there is nature of the ducks ...

The father will look at the puddle, wave his hand.

Cumshot the carting of ice. His green blocks lay at the sheds, shone in the sun with a rainbow, blissed by night. Frost from them. Stiring my knees, I climbed over them to the roof to gnaw icicles. Dexterous well done, with their feet wrapped in a bag, - otherwise you will guess the boots - they rolled the ice with a roar in the cellar, flooded with a clean snowball from the garden and slammed firmly.

- They buried the ice, the Sabbath! Until the very spring it will not get up.

They brought them along the scale, they grunted:

- Good, A ... Squarer Ledok will be blown away.

He passed the quarterly, ordered: chop the pavement to Easter, for dust! They hide in the ice with pickles, hollowed with scraps - to the pebble. And here is the first span. She staggered carefully on the ice groove, shining with varnish, she moves onto the pavement. The dandy-creator is baptized under the novelty, straightens his pitch and briskly rolls on pebbles with the first cheerful knock.

In the kitchen under the stairs sits a goose-blink. When I run, she hisses in a mock and bends her neck - she wants to finish me. Easter soon! They brought a “spider” from the barn, a round brush on the six - to sweep the ceilings for Easter. Egorov was removed from the box in the store and put a carousel with testicles. I admire them for a long time: they are spinning quietly, one after another, like a dream. On gold rings, on scarlet ribbons. Sugar, satin ...

In the bakery - white caps on the windows with the beams - X. V. even our Voronin, whose "rats in the kvashno spend the night", and he put up a dirty cardboard: "Orders for cakes and Easter and Greek women are accepted!" Women? .. And for some reason Greek! Vasil -Vasilich brought a whole bucket of living fish - pescarics, Nasyomov - he himself caught with a bastard. Father on the river with the people. Somehow he came, cheerful, lifted me by the shoulders to the nightingale cage and shook.

- Well, brother, our Moscow-river passed. The rafts drove! ..

And twisted by the cheek.

Vasil-Vasilich stands in the office on the threshold. It has boots in the mud. He speaks in a hoarse voice, his eyes swam.

-Be and p-koins, sir, we’ll undergo ... they will be for Easter near Simonov. Now right from ...

- From the tavern? I see.

-There is no way, from this ... from under Zvenigorod, five days on the water. Thirty races of birch, twenty pines and Christmas trees, flying on the wings! .. And barks with the forest, and ... and Palenov had seventeen races of linen, the scattering! And with my eye ... I have natural, Zhizdrin residents!

Father is satisfied: Easter will be calm. Last year, I got a mapping on the river.

- With the Kremlin, I would not have to fuck up ... Enough we have glasses?

- Ten thousand scored, sir, I will get it! The fat for filling was bought. Limination in three days we will be resolved-s. And how will you order in the parish? The parishioners were offended, there was no limit. On boats, people were saved under Dorgomilov ... Not to the limit! ..

- We will cope with the Nonnie Easter for two!

They talk about shields and stars, about kubastiki, scales, about bowls ... About some "Smollyans" and incendiary threads.

- The expiration of the people will be! .. I am bored with our arrival.

- Come on with missiles. Take a note for permission from the quarterly. How much do you need ... do you understand?

- Red by his eyes ... we won’t do a fire! - Vasil-Vasilich says cheerfully. - Run - so run, sir!

- I think this is ... the cross on the kumpol, would be puntes with purests? ..

-P-mai-s, Zazhgem-s. Highly only? .. Yes, for God's work, sir ... will reward, sir! As they say, God has a lot.

- You will send a shield on the cross to attach a gank-malear ... I climbed a brick pipe! Just do not let the drunk, it will still break.

- It will not fall in any way, the drunk is only taken! Yes, he, be-p-koin-sir, protects himself. In the Kumpol, a hearing lodger, under an apple ... He, therefore, will be crumbling by the apple, flogging at the neck, gets in, will start up to the cross, he will focus on the cross, he will sit down in the loop - and download it! I will give new ropes. And with you, we used to ... on Christ, a spacer at the very crosses, the Lord saved.

Passed "Verba". A heap of roses of Easter, on icons and Easter cakes, lie under paper in the hall. Passionate days. I still do not go, but it is sinful to hang out now, and they plant me to read the gospel. "Abraham gave birth to Isaac, Isaac gave birth to Jacob, Jacob gave birth to Judas ...". I can’t understand: Abraham is masculine! You will read the page, you will play with the "sea resident", from the top, you will look out the window. Gorkin of a oster as if doing it! I scream at his window, he waves to me.

The most fun work is in the yard: shields and stars are chosen, the scenes for - X. V. at the attack of the shed, in the sun, sits in a short fur coat Gorkin, his sleeves are crushed by harmonies. They call it - "phynchik", for a clean work. He no longer works, and so, at the house. Father loves to speak with him and always puts it with himself. Gorkin straightens the tenant. I see how he cuts a crooked tablet with a crooked cut.

- I’ll go home to die, who will cut you? While alive, study. Look here, the grapes will go now ...

He picks on the plank, and grapes appear! Then he cuts out the "Holy Cross", Herodovo spear and ladder - to the sky! Then an amazing bird, then the Bukoki - X. V. Freezing with joy, I look. His hands are old, in the veins.

- Learn the holy work. This is a dove, the spirit-bite. I, wait, will cut off the cherished one. You will remember Gorkina. And I’ll cut a spoon to you ... You will begin to slurp soup - you look, and you will remember.

So I remembered. And they all left ...

I carry a passionate candle from the gospels, look at a flickering light: he is a saint. A quiet night, but I'm very afraid: it will go out! I will report - I will live to last year. The old cook is glad that I reported. She washing her hands, takes a holy light, lights her lamp, and we go to burn the crosses. We burn out above the kitchen door, then on the burial, in the barn ...

“He can’t now at all.” Save Christ ... - baptized, she says and baptizes the cow with a candle. - Christ with you, mother, do not be afraid ... Lie yourself.

The cow looks thoughtfully and chews.

Gorkin also walks with us. He takes a candle from the cook and burns a cross over the head of the head in his closet. There are many crosses there, from the previous years.

It seems to me that Christ is in our yard. And in the barn, and in the stables, and on the bog, and everywhere. In the black cross from my candle - Christ came. And all - for him, what we are doing. The yard is clean, and all corners are cleaned, and even under a canopy where there was manure. These unusual days are passionate, Christ days. Now I’m not afraid of anything: I’m going through the dark senes - and nothing, because everywhere is Christ.

Voronin at the burial is crumpled in a wide tub of cottage cheese. Tolstoy Voronin and bakers, rolled his hands, poke red fists into cottage cheese, pour raisins and sugar into it and smash it in a mustache. Give me a try on my finger: well, how? Sour, but I praise out of politeness. In our dining room, almonds are interpreted, you can hear all over the house. I help to rub the cottage cheese on the grate. Golden worms fall on a dish - completely alive! They wipe everything, at five residents: we need a lot. For us - the real one, it smells of Easter. Then - for the guests, the front, still "small" Easter, two people, and also to poor relatives. For the people, a man to two hundred, Voronin makes under the supervision of Vasil-Vasilich, and carpenters help to do. Bakes Voronin and Easter cakes to the people.

Vasil-Vasilich both here and there. He goes on tremors to the church, where Ganka -Malyar hangs - the crusade is getting along. I’ll go to the shroud and see. In the yard, cups are poured. Caulines, bowls, lamps, balls, cubastics - all colors are worn in large baskets. A bonfire burns in a puddle, a filling is boiled in the boiler. Vasil-Vasilich interferes with a stick, puts cores and a coma of sala, whom "the mouse does not eat." The cups are on the boards, in nests, rows, and look like multi -colored birds. Balls and lamps hang on wires. The main filling is in the Kremlin, where the father is with the people. And here - trifles, glasses of a thousand, no more. I also help, - I wear cores from the box, put my wicks on the bowls. And how beautiful! On new boards, riches, puntes, green, blue, gold, white with milk ... Swaying, large glass balls ring each other, and the sun lets the bunnies, spits on barrels, on a puddle.

They hit sadly, to the shroud. Sadness and joy are confused in me: the Savior will die now ... And funny cups, and almonds in the pocket, and paint the eggs ... And the smells of vanillas and the ham that has now been baked, and the sad prayer that Gorkin sings,-"Judas of the wicked-and-and-time ... Silib-rime of Paradish-andya ..." He is in a new Cossack. He anointed his boots tar, goes to church.

In front of the Kazan crowd, they look at the dome. At the cross, the black rope is swinging like a jackdaw. This is Ganka, desperate. He will pushing his foot - and knocks. The spirit is breathtaking to watch. I hear: the cartoon threw it! The fly flies and flopes through the street to the pharmacy. Vasil-Vasilich shouts:

- Hey, don't fool ... You! Get cups! ..

“Dava ai! ..” Ganka yells, making his feet. Even the quarterly looks.

The father rolls up on the yeast.

- Wow, guys! There is a shortage in the Kremlin ... - he rushes and quickly climbs to the roof.

The staircase is composite, unsteady. Vasil-Vasilich climbs. He is heavier than his father, and the staircase is bending with an arc. Raise the baskets on the ropes. Father runs along the cornice, indicates where to put the crosses on the wings. Ganka throws the end of the rope, screams - come on! Kubastiki is tied to him in a weave, and he pulls up to the cross. Sitting in a loop in front of the cross, he is tired of cubastics. Gleaming with glass. Now the most difficult thing: to drive away the incendiary thread. They argue: do not make with one hand, you have to hold on! Ganka ties himself to the cross. My head is dizzy, I'm sick ...

- Readyaaaa! .. Take the thread! ..

A lump sparkled from the cross. They say - you can see the thread on the dome! Ganka slides from the loop, crawls along the "apple" under the cross, dives into the hole on the dome. A empty loop swaying. Ganka is already on the roof, his father claps him on the shoulder. Ganka wipes his face with a shirt and quickly descends to the ground. He is surrounded, and he shows a piece of paper:

- How the turtles are covered!

Looks at the loop that is swinging.

- This is scary from here, and there - like in chairs!

He is very pale, walking, staggering.

A cloakie is carried out in the church. I am sad: the Savior died. But joy is already beating: it will be resurrected, tomorrow! Golden coffin, saint. Death is the only way: everyone will be resurrected. Today I read in the Gospel that the coffins were opened and many bodies of the deceased saints were resurrected. And I want to become a saint, - even tears are wrapping around. Gorkin leads to apply. The shroud is seen by roses. Under Kiseya, with golden cherubs, lies the Savior, greenish-pale, with pierced hands. It smells of sacred roses.

With a hidden joy that mixed with sadness, I leave the church. Crosses and stars are hung on the fence, glasses shine. Father and Vasil-Vasilich rolled on tremors in the Kremlin, grabbed Ganka with them. Gorkin tells me that there is a responsible limit, the General-I-Governor Dolgorukov himself will look at. And Ganka "took on a desperate business."

It smells of mastic, Easter and ham. The floors are wiped, but Kovrov has not yet been laid.

I am allowed to paint eggs.

Night. I look at the image, and everything in me is associated with Christ: illumination, candles, spinning testicles, prayers, ganka, old man Gorkin, who will probably die soon ... but he will resurrect! And once I die, and that’s it. And then we’ll meet everything ... And Vaska, who died in winter from Scarlatina, and the shoemaker of the ash, who sang with the boys about the Magi, - we will all meet there. And Gorkin will cut grapes on the rations, but some other, bright, like white fluffs that I saw in Memorial. There is a raincoat in the church, one, lamps burn. He now went into hell and leads everyone out of the fiery hell. And for him, Ganka climbed onto the cross, and his father in the Kremlin climbs the bell tower, and Vasil -Vasilich, and all our guys - everything is for him! The barks are thrown on the river, on the anchors, there is only a watch left. And the rafts came up yesterday. They are bored with them on a dark river, one. But Christ is with them, everywhere ... they are spinning in the window of Yegorov testis. I see a fat worm with a black head with beads-eyes, with a tongue of scarlet cloth ... trembles in the testicle. I see a big sugar egg - and Christ is in it.

Great Saturday, evening. The house is quiet, everyone lay in front of the matins. I get into the hall - see what's on the street. There are few people, they carry Easter and Easter cakes in cardboard. In the hall, the wallpaper is pink - from the sun, it comes in. In the rooms - punts lamps, Easter: on Christmas were blue? .. They laid the Easter carpet in the living room, with puntes bouquets. The gray covers from burgundy chairs were removed. On the images of wreaths of rose. In the hall and in the corridors there are new red "paths". In the dining room on the windows - painted eggs in baskets, punts: tomorrow the father will Christ with the people. In the front - green quarters with wine: to bring. On the down pillows, in the dining room on the couch - so that they do not fail! - There are huge Easter cakes, covered with a pink pint, - they cool down. It smells of them with sweet warmth fragrant. Quiet on the street. A furry cart went from the yard - they took juniper to the church. It’s completely dark. An unexpected whisper scares me:

- Why aren't you sleeping, wandering? ..

This is a father. He just returned.

I don’t know what to say: I like to walk around the rooms in silence and watch and listen, everything is different! - So unusual, holy.

Father puts on a summer jacket and begins to set the lamps. He is always himself: others do not know how. He walks around the rooms with them and sings in an undertone: "Your resurrection was saved ... Angels sing in heaven ..." And I go with him. In my soul I have joyful and quiet, and I want to cry for some reason. I look at him, as he becomes on a chair, to the icon, and for some reason comes into the thought: he will really die! .. He puts a row on a lamp on a tin tray and lights up, singing the sacred. There are a lot of them, and all but one, punts. Raspberry lights are sleeping - they will not move. And only one, from the nursery, - pink, with white eyes, is a chintz as if. Well, how beautiful! I look at sleepy lights and I think: this is a holy illumination, Bozhenkin. I am clinging to my father, to the leg. He fits my cheek. It smells of fragrant, Athos, butter from his fingers.

“Would you, brother, sleep?”

From the restrained joy, from the fatigue of these days, or from something sad, I start crying, pressing against him, I want to say something, I don’t know ... He lifts me to the ceiling itself, where a squeezer sits in a cage, laughs from under the mustache.

- Well, let's go, you have one thing ...

He carries a puntes lamp into the office, puts the Savior icon, looks at how smoothly is and how good it became in the office. Then he takes out from the table ... Golden testicle on a chain!

- Take to the ground, just do not lose. Well, open it ...

I can hardly open it with a snoop. Fragile, - Puntsovo there is golden. In the middle shines gold, heavy; In lateral pockets - brand new silver. Wonderful wallet! I kiss a gentle hand smelling of wooden oil. He takes me to his knees, strokes ...

- And I was tired, brother ... And all things. Pines, better, go, and I will play a little.

Oh, unforgettable evening, extinguishing light outside the windows ... And now I still hear slow steps, with a lamp, singing in thought - voice -

Angels sing on non-b-si ...

The mysterious light, holy. In the hall only a lamp. On a large tray - I can lie down on it - Easter cakes are getting dark, Easter is white. Roses on Easter cakes and red eggs seem black. Two, tall well done in the subordes, enter on the socks, and carefully take out a tray tied with a tablecloth. They are told anxiously: "For the sake of God, do not overturn how!" They respond reassuringly: "God forbid, we will take care." They carried it to the church.

We go to Silence along the quiet street, in the dark. Stars, a warm night, smells like a manner. The steps are heard in the dark, the knots are white.

In the fence, a canvas tent, with attacks. Easter and Easter cakes, in flowers, are drunk with raisins. Rare candles. It smells of juniper sacred. Gorkin takes my hand.

- Papashenka punished you to be with you, show the limit. And he himself with Vasilich in the Kremlin, after and will come to us. And here I command with you.

He leads me to the church, where he is still dark, he puts me to a small cloakie on the table: a large one, on the coffin, was carried away. Image in rosans. On the panicadiles flickering in the gloom, incendiary threads hang. Juniper is busy at the legs. The priest carries a raincoat on his head. Gorkin in a new subcodel, on his neck he has a pink handkerchief, under a beard. His candle is red, wrapped in a gold.

- The procession is now, let's go to dispose.

As soon as we make our way among the people. The soldering tent is gold from the lights, pink there, snowy. Gorkin punishes ours:

- Wait for my voice! As the move seemed, the script - Vali! - Go at a racket! You, Stepa ... Akim, Grisha ... I'll set fire to the thread, let's light me! The fourth is from the bell tower. Mitya, tama you?!

- Here, Mikhal Pankratych, do not sag!

- Have you poured a photogen on barrels?

- That's it, we will disgust at once!

- Mitya! As in a big hit, you will get the heels, now go to red-succeed, with a call to the sober, without delay ... turn and turn into everything! Opening myself, I’ll climb it myself. In our opinion, in a rosti! Well, give my Lord ...

His voice trembles. We stand with a lighter at the thread. They serve with the porch - goes! Already audible -

... Angels like heaven-and ..!

“V -v -and -and! ..” Gorkin cries, “and four missiles rushed into the sky at a racket and scattered with clicking into seven -color apples.” “Smolians” blazed, and the fire snake jumped in all the ends, dropping flaming flakes.

-Kumpol, kumpol! - Gorkin pulls me.

The fiery snake shot up, exploded into many snakes, took off the dome to the cross ... And there he melted. In the black sky, the scarlet cross was erected! Crosses shine on wings, near the cornices. On the White Church glow softly, like milk, matte-white kubastiki, pink crosses between them, green and blue stars. Shines - X. V. On the soldering tent is also a crimson cross. Bengal lights flash, throw shadows on the walls - crosses, banners, a hat of the bishop, his triciria. And everything was covered with a great rumble, a wonderful ringing of silver and copper.

Chryso resurrected from the Ma-Rat ...

“Well, Christ is risen ...” The joyful, dear Gorkin bends to me.

He kisses and leads to our church three times. It smells sacred with hot wax and juniper.

... Sweeter Death ... Pra-A-AB ..!

Ringing at dawn, inexorable. In the sun and ringing morning. Easter, red. And in the Kremlin succeeded in fame. Vladimir Andreich Dolgorukov himself thanked himself! Vasil-Vasilich says:

- He says - made friends. I will pretend to the medals, he says. This was ... burned the tunnel! Metropolitan was even horrified ... What was it! The whole Kremlin burned. And on the Moscow River ... Purely day! ..

Father, elegant, whistles. He stands in the front, at the baskets with red eggs, Christs. Stretch out of the kitchen, goose. Shake their hair, wipe the mustache with his fist and sticks out three times. “Christ is risen!”, “Verily Risen” ... “With a bright holiday” ... they get an egg and go into the canopy. They stretch for a long time - carpenters, the people are blundered, the malyars - the drugs, hustling ... Plogonov - wide strong workers ... heavy diggers -little boobs, dodgers - masons, roofers, divers, stokers ...

Revolution in the yard. Vasil-Vasilich wields, in a flaming shirt, a vest wipes,-about to dance. Harmonies are itchy. Christ is Christ with each other, wanders the hair there and there. My lips fell ill ...

Slons, calls, red - consonant. Easter red. Dunch in the wild, under the stacks of the forest. On fresh boards, they have lunch, under the sober. Pink, red, blue, yellow, green shells - everywhere, and in a puddle are hung. Easter is red! Both day, and ringing.

I am considering the testicles given to me. Here is crystal -gold, through it - everything is magical. Here - with a stretching fat worm; He has a black head, black-beam eyes and a tongue from a scarlet cloth. With soldiers, with ducks, carved -sustained ... And now, porcelain is a father. A wonderful panorama in it ... behind the pink and blue flowers of the immortelle and moss, behind the glass in the golden rim, the picture is seen in the depths: the snow -white Christ with a banner rose from the coffin. The nanny told me that if you look at the glass, for a long, long time, you will see a living angel. Tired of strict days, from bright lights and ringing, I peer over the glass. He hung up in my eyes - and appears to me, in flowers - alive, inexplicably random, holy ... - B about g? .. Do not convey in words. I press the testicle to my chest, - and a lulling chime shakes me in a dream. "