Commemorated on August 7
One of the greatest treasures in the possession of the Monastery of
New Valamo in Heinävesi, Finland is the wonder-working icon of the
Mother of God of Valaam. Painted on lime wood, the 132 x 79.5 cm icon
depicts the Virgin Mary as a full-length figure standing on a cloud with
lowered gaze, clothed in a bright red cloak and a dark turquoise
undergarment. She is holding the Christ child, who is dressed in a thin,
pale yellow smock, on her left arm. With her right hand, she points to
Christ, in the style of the “hodigitria” icons of the Mother of God.
Christ blesses with His right hand and holds an orb, surmounted by a
cross, in His left hand, signifying that He is the Creator of the world
and King of all.
According to the inscription, the icon was
painted in 1878, “the work of the monks of Valaam.” It is customarily
attributed, however, to Father Alipy, one of the leading iconographers
at the original Valaam Monastery in Lake Ladoga in Russian Karelia.
Father Alipy painted the icon only a few years after he arrived at the
monastery, before he had become a novice there. He was tonsured to
monastic orders in 1884 and ordained as priestmonk in 1893.
Following
the conventions of the late 19th century, the icon was painted in a
“naturalistic” style, employing a technique that combined the use of
tempera and oils.
Originally, the icon was to have been placed in
the Valaam Monastery’s Church of the Dormition. This never occurred,
however, and subsequently the icon was misplaced. In 1897, the icon was
rediscovered and gained its miracle-working reputation on the strength
of a succession of visions of the Mother of God experienced by an
elderly woman with serious rheumatoid arthritis, Natalia Andreyevna
Andreyeva, who was cured of her illness.
Despite the Valaam
Monastery’s long history, it had never had an icon of the Mother of God
of its own design, although Father Alipy’s icon came to occupy such a
position in subsequent years. In the turmoil of World War II, the icon
was transported to safety in Finland, along with many other treasures
from Valaam and the majority of the monks. It now occupies a prominent
position in the Church of the Transfiguration of Our Lord at the New
Valaam Monastery.
In 1987, the bishops of the autonomous Orthodox
Church of Finland established an annual feast in the Valaam Icon’s
honor on August 7. The troparion and kontakion for the feast were
written by the late Archbishop Paul of Finland.
On July 29, 2005,
the Valaam Icon of the Mother of God was brought for the first time to
North America by His Eminence, Archbishop Leo of Karelia and All
Finland.
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“Mother dear, is it true that you live at Valaam?”
The story of the icon of the Mother of God of Valaam, as recorded in 1897
In
a corner behind the choir enclosure on the south side of the lower main
church at the monastery of Valaam, where the miracle-working remains of
the monastery’s founders, the Saints Sergei and Herman of Valaam, lie
at rest interred in the rock, stands an icon of the All-Holy Mother of
God. This full length image of the Queen of Heaven holding the divine
child in her arms is known as the icon of the Mother of God of Valaam.
It is a work of considerable artistic merit that was painted by a local
artist-monk and later hieromonk, Father Alipi, in 1878. Nowadays this
icon is one of the most cherished objects of reverence at Valaam.
As
if by some divine providence, no suitable place could be found for the
icon at first when it was finished, and it was placed in the entrance
hall to the upper main church, where it remained until that church was
demolished to make way for a new one. At that stage the majority of the
icons, including this one, were taken to the Church of the Dormition of
the Mother of God, where the monastery held its regular services until
the lower main church was completed. The icon was hung in a relatively
high position on a pillar to the left of the entrance to the church.
When
the lower main church was ready for consecration, all the icons that
had been moved to the Church of the Dormition were returned to it, but
again, for some inexplicable reason known only to God, no place could be
found for this one. As scarcely any services were held in the Church of
the Dormition any longer, this icon, along with some others, was placed
in temporary storage in the Church of St Nicholas the Miracle-Worker.
There it lay forgotten for many years, until it was moved to its present
place in response to a vision experienced by a holy woman servant of
God. The story of the indescribable act of grace bestowed upon this
woman by the Queen of Heaven is recounted below in her own words.
‘I
am a member of the peasant estate from the village of Zarino in the
parish of Paskina, part of the district of Korchevski within the
province of Tver. My name is Natalia Andreyevna Andreyeva. I am now
sixty-four years of age and live in St Petersburg, in the Brusnitsyn old
peoples’ home, at Kosaya Line no. 15 on Vasili Island. I was placed in
this home, through the grace of God, by the lady in whose service I was a
serf in former days.
In the year 1878 or 1879 I caught a bad
cold on one occasion when washing clothes and developed rheumatism in my
arms and legs. I began to seek treatment for this, but my health became
worse year by year. I went to the Mariski Hospital for massage for a
long time, but it didn’t help, and I went to the Grand Duchess Elena
Pavlovna’s clinic opposite the Tauria gardens for as long as I could. I
was more or less a cripple for most of the winter. All my money went on
doctors’ fees and medicines, but the Lord God didn’t look kindly on my
afflictions. In the end I was told that my illness had reached the stage
of serious rheumatoid arthritis and that the only way of curing it was
to go to a spa and take warm water baths.
What could I do? By
that time I could scarcely afford to eat, so how could I find the money
for treatment at a spa? And so, sinner that I am, I began to pray
ardently to the Mother of God that in her mercy she would help me in my
sufferings. I could walk only with great difficulty, leaning on a stick,
and I had such pains in my hands and arms from time to time that I
could no longer hold on to the stick. Sometimes I could make my way into
the Church of the Sign only by crawling up the steps on all fours. I
lived as a beggar, on food that people gave me as alms. This went on
until 1887.
At that point my former mistress heard about my
pitiful state and invited me to come and live with her at Käkisalmi in
the province of Viipuri in Finland and look after her children as far as
my health would permit. There was no other work that I could think of
doing in the condition that I was in. The family was not a rich one, and
so I was not to receive any wages for this - but, thank God, at least I
was sure of food and a roof over my head.
While I was at
Käkisalmi I heard many accounts of the miraculous cures that had taken
place at the tomb of the Saints Sergei and Herman of Valaam, and this
aroused a powerful desire in me to visit Valaam and prostrate myself
before the tomb of these saints who had been acceptable unto the Lord
and entreat their help in my serious state of illness. I had heard a lot
about Valaam earlier, while I was living in St Petersburg, and I had
often thought of visiting the monastery to pay reverence to its founder
saints, but in all the vanities of life I had never got round to it. The
main reason had been the cost of the journey, of course, but now the
monastery was closer. Also, there was an inner voice speaking to me all
the time, “Go to Valaam and be cured!”
I could no longer resist
this desire, and I asked the lady of the house for leave to go there. As
I had no money at all, I pawned my warm scarf for four roubles and
started to make preparations for the journey.
As the day of
departure approached I began to feel uneasy and distressed. I was an old
woman who was utterly sick and lacking in strength. How could I travel
alone? I had very little money, only just enough for the journey. How
could I set out at all on such a journey? And if something were to
happen, what would a poor creature like me do then? Thoughts like this
began to haunt me until I was quite distraught.
The night before I
set out I just lay on my bed and wept. What should I do? I wanted so
much to make this journey, but still I was frightened for some reason.
Then - I don’t know whether I was asleep or awake - I saw quite clearly a
tall woman clad in pink velvet and with a child in her arms, surrounded
by an amazing light. The thought immediately struck me, could this be
the Mother of God? I didn’t dare to call out to her by that name,
though. I wanted to go to her, but she stepped back and said, “Don’t
weep. The Saviour is coming, and I am coming to you!”
Then I said to her, “Mother dear, how beautiful and good you are! Is it true that you live at Valaam?”
“Yes,
I live there. You will see me at Valaam!” After that the vision
disappeared, but now that the Mother of God had spoken to me it was as
if a stone had been lifted from my heart. My mind was at ease and all my
fears had been swept away.
The next day the ship came and I set
out joyfully on my journey. The old ladies sitting beside me began to
offer me food and drink, one bread, another tea and yet another coffee,
so that I was not short of anything all the way. It was a happy journey.
The only problem was that my legs were very painful because of the
rocking of the ship. At Valaam they were celebrating not only the annual
feast of the Saints Sergei and Herman but also the laying of the
foundation stone for a new church. There were a huge number of pilgrims
there, and also the Grand Duke Vladimir Alexandrovich and his wife the
Duchess. There were throngs of people everywhere.
Once I had
arrived and rested after the strenuous journey, I made my way to the
tomb of the Saints Sergei and Herman and prayed there ardently so that
the tears streamed from my eyes. I asked the saints who had been
acceptable unto God to help me, to grant me, sinful as I was, relief
from my illness. I spent the last coins that I had on a short service of
prayer to them, so that I had nothing left but twenty kopecks and my
return fare.
The evening service was held in the Church of the
Dormition, and the crowd was so enormous that with my illness, I stood
no chance of pushing my way into the church but had to stand, or rather
sit, in the entrance.
The following day I had to return home. I
would have liked to stay there longer to pray, but I couldn’t, as even a
few days would have cost so much that I would not have had any money
for the fare home.
Just before the ship was due to leave, some
unseen force began to drive me back to the Church of the Dormition once
more to pray. Although I was frightened of missing the ship, I didn’t
dare to resist this inner voice which ordered me into the church, so I
gathered up all my strength and practically ran back there.
As
soon as I stepped into the church I involuntarily looked to the left -
and stood rooted to the spot. My legs went weak beneath me, and I would
certainly have fallen down if it hadn’t been for the railings beside the
stairs leading to the upper church.
The reason for my surprise
and bewilderment was something quite miraculous. Hanging on the pillar
to the left of the door, in a golden frame, and looking at me was the
Mother of God! And what was more, I recognised in Her the same figure
who had appeared to me in a dream on the eve of my departure for Valaam
and strengthened my failing spirit for the journey. I couldn’t take my
eyes off the icon, and I became more and more convinced that this was
the same dear mother who had been gracious enough to visit me in a
dream. I recognised Her radiant face and Her merciful gaze. Even Her
clothing was the same, and She held the Child in just the same way as I
had seen in my dream.
As soon as I had recalled all this I wanted
to have a service of prayer for the Mother of God and to kiss Her holy
icon, but this was evidently not a suitable moment for Her, as our
defender, to receive my unworthy prayers. The ship’s siren sounded in
the distance, announcing its departure, and the icon was hung so high up
that it was impossible for me to kiss it. I just had time to buy a
candle with my last twenty kopecks and place it in front of the icon.
Then, with tears in my eyes, I had to leave for the ship.
It was
only during the voyage that I recovered my composure. I was delighted
beyond words with this miracle that had been granted to me, a sinner,
although I was also saddened by the fact that I had seen the icon of the
All-Holy Mother of God only in the last few minutes before leaving
Valaam. This had evidently been Her wish.
* * * * * * * *
A
few days after I arrived back in Käkisalmi I began to feel much better.
I could walk without a stick and do little jobs around the house. I
resolved at once to go back to the monastery again at the first
opportunity to thank God and the holy fathers and definitely to have a
service of prayer said in front of the icon of the Mother of God. But
the Lord determined otherwise.
The lady in whose house I was
living decided to move into the country, and I had to go back to St
Petersburg again and rely on assistance from the good people there. The
years went by. My life was a hard one, and I was often facing hunger. My
illness became worse, and I again had to walk with a stick. I prayed
ardently to the Mother of God for help. Then, in 1896, nine years after
my visit to Valaam, I came home from Vespers one Saturday evening, said
my prayers and went to bed. Again I had a dream. The Mother of God
appeared to me in exactly the same form as on the first occasion, and
said, “So your enthusiasm has waned and you’ve forgotten your promise to
return to Valaam. You were shown the way, but you didn’t follow it.”
“I am poor,” I answered, “I haven’t the money.”
“You
find money for everything else, but not for this. Alas, this is a
bitter disappointment for me,” the Mother of God complained.
I
was horrified at this vision. I had evidently offended our dear mother.
What was I to do now? Suddenly I heard that my former mistress had
recently returned to St Petersburg, and so I went to her and told her
the reason for my sorrow. She again came to my rescue - may God grant
her all his goodness - and unexpectedly gave me five roubles. With these
I was able to travel to Valaam at once.
As soon as I reached the
monastery I went to the new church to pray at the tomb of the founder
saints, and then to the Church of the Dormition to pray to the Mother of
God. To my great sorrow, however, I couldn’t find Her icon where it had
been on the first occasion. I began to ask the monks where it was, and
the former treasurer Father Evgeni advised me to ask the master of the
church furnishings, Father Pafnuti, who was responsible for all the
icons. Even he couldn’t tell me exactly where the icon of the Mother of
God that had been in the Church of the Dormition now was, and thought it
might have been sent to the monastery’s chapel on Vasili Island in St
Petersburg. I was very, very upset that I had not found my Queen of
Heaven, and shed many bitter tears as I prayed to the Mother of God and
the Saints Sergei and Herman that they would not abandon me in my sin.
I
stayed at Valaam for two and a half weeks, looking everywhere for the
icon, but I couldn’t find it. My health was poor, and my soul weighed
heavy within me. Eventually I went back to St Petersburg and called at
the Valaam chapel on Vasili Island, but the icon was not there, either. I
was more grief-stricken than ever.
Another year passed, and my
illness began to grow worse again, so that I could scarcely walk even
with a stick. I had scrimped and saved all year and gradually collected
the kopecks together for another journey to Valaam. I set out to spend
the feast of St Peter at the monastery and to look for the icon of the
Mother of God once again.
Although I was exhausted by the time I
arrived, I prayed earnestly at the tomb of the founder saints and with
tears in my eyes prayed to the Mother of God that she would show me
where I could find Her blessed icon. And my prayer was answered.
That
night I had another dream. I was walking through the yard of the
monastery and past the now abandoned Church of St Nicholas. I was crying
and praying to the Mother of God, “Oh mother dear, if only I could see
you once more!” I was greatly surprised, but I went on praying.
Again
I heard a voice, but this time it was someone else’s. “What are you so
sad about? What are you looking for?” I turned round and there was a
grey-bearded old monk in a blue biretta standing behind me.
“I am looking for the Mother of God,” I replied.
“Wait. We will find Her.”
“How can you find Her so quickly,” I asked, “when Father Pafnuti searched for three weeks without finding her?”
“He searched in the wrong places. He had forgotten where She is,” the old monk said.
I followed him to a door. “This door is closed,” I said.
He opened it. “She is in here.”
I
looked into the inside of the church, and in one corner, amidst a heap
of furnishings and old icons, was the icon of the Mother of God, half
wrapped in a linen cloth and sacking. I recognised it at once as the
icon I was looking for. “Here She is!” I exclaimed in a loud voice. It
was then that the other women in the same room woke me up.
The
next day, a Wednesday, I went to the Liturgy early in the morning, after
which Father Pafnuti conducted a service of prayer at the tomb of the
founder saints. I told him about my dream. “In the name of God, forgive
me,” he said. “I looked for the icon at first and then forgot all about
it. I will go and search for it at once. Now I remember. I’m sure it’s
in the Church of St Nicholas the Miracle-Worker.”
I intended to
take Communion on the Saturday, and the night before I had another
dream. It was as if I were standing alone in the lower church. There
were just two monks beside the founders’ tomb, Father Seraphim and
Father Nikolai. I was waiting impatiently for something and could not
take my eyes off the outer door. Suddenly the door opened and the icon
of the Mother of God was carried in by Father Pafnuti and a young monk
in a short, grey cassock. “There She is, my dear mother!” I cried, and
threw myself on the floor, thinking that the icon would be carried over
me and I would be made well. But Father Pufnuti said, “There is nothing
ready for you here. We have to hold a short service to bless the holy
water before a sick person can be made well.” And at that I awoke.
In
the morning I took Communion. I told Father Pafnuti of my dream and,
sobbing, entreated him to go and look for the icon. Before the later
Liturgy I was in a chapel when I suddenly saw a crowd of people hurrying
from the hotel to the church. “What is happening?” I asked. They told
me that the missing icon of the Mother of God had been found and that it
was being taken to the lower church. I went into the church and saw the
icon on the steps in front of the iconostasis.
“Is this the icon you meant?” Father Pafnuti asked me.
“Yes, this is the one,” I replied.
“Then
be comforted and pray to the Holy Mother of God,” he said. I asked him
to hold a service of prayer to the Mother of God, and he did so, with a
blessing of water as well, and lit a lamp in front of the icon.
Hieromonk
Alipi was reading a service of prayer at the tomb of the founder saints
just then, and I was told that it was he who had painted the icon. I
went to him and bowed down to the ground before him. My breath stuck in
my throat and tears streamed down my cheeks from the sheer joy of
finding at last the icon of the Mother of God who had appeared to me,
and I gave thanks to the Lord with all my heart for the unspeakable
mercy he had shown to me.
The holy water was poured into a bottle
for me, and when I drank it I felt my strength return. I took some oil
from the lamp and went to my room. There I spread it on my hands and
feet. The pain abated, and for the first time for many years I was able
to sleep peacefully. I week later I could walk without a stick.
After
giving thanks with all my soul and from the bottom of my heart to the
Mother of God for the miracle that She had worked on me in my
unworthiness, I returned to St Petersburg. I began to gain in strength
all the time without any medicine, and by Easter I had completely
recovered. It was then that I decided that I would buy a lamp for the
icon. By the grace of God I managed to gather together eight roubles
from the little that I had, but a lamp cost ten roubles. Then a friend
of mine who had bought a charity lottery ticket promised that if she won
she would give me the two roubles I needed, and she did win a gold
watch, so that I was able to buy the lamp and send it to the monastery.
Many people asked me to give them a photograph of the icon. Now I am in
perfect health. I can do washing and scrub floors, and I have even been
helping with the haymaking at the Konevits Monastery. I have no pain at
all in my legs. Altogether the illness lasted twelve years. At one time I
couldn’t even get my arms into the sleeves of my clothes, and sometimes
I could only climb steps by crawling on my hands and knees. I shed
countless tears at such times and prayed to the Mother of God that I
might be cured. Now I am healthy again and have everything that I need.
There are even good people around me who have put me in an old people’s
home. Glory be to the Queen of Heaven!’
Natalia Andreyevna’s
story of the discovery of the icon in the abandoned Church of St
Nicholas is thoroughly plausible. It would have been impossible for her
to know anything about the contents of the church or about the objects
stored there beforehand. The church is kept closed and no people other
than the monastery staff are allowed into it. Everything really happened
as she had seen in her dream. Following her instructions, Father
Pafnuti went into the church, found the icon in a corner and brought it
to the lower main church. There he placed it on the right-hand side of
the church, on a pillar behind the right-hand choir enclosure, where it
has been to this day. And by some miraculous means the person who helped
Father Pufnuti carry the icon was indeed dressed in a short, grey
cassock.
Natalia Andreyevna released this account of her visions
on 7th August 1897, and it was written down in the present form on 26th
July 1898.
TROPARION - TONE 4
O Virgin Theotokos, / we rejoice in beholding your holy icon, / for
devout prayers offered in front of it were fulfilled on the island of
Valaam / and the ascetics’ failing strength was renewed. / Hear our
prayers, also, O Most Holy One. / Strengthen us in faith and love, /
entreating peace for the world / and great mercy for our souls.
KONTAKION - TONE 3
With minds elevated, / we come before your Holy Icon, / O Most
Honorable Theotokos! / Your akathistos hymn was sung while it was being
painted on the island of Valaam. / You appeared three times to the widow
you healed, / and you showed the location of your forgotten icon. /
Strengthen us in our afliction. / Increase in our hearts humility, love
and silence of prayer. / Be a constant protection of your monastery /
and our courage before your Son, / O praised Mother of God and heavenly
Queen.
SOURCE:
SAINT OR FEAST POSTED THIS DATE 2012(with 2011's link here also and further, 2010, 2009, 2008 and even 2007!)
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