sâmbătă, 7 decembrie 2019

Poveste de iarna cu Sfantul Niculae
(povestita de bunica mea care a trait povestea )

"Mamaitza, mai spune-mi inca o data despre mosul acela coborat din munti....ma uitam rugatoare catre chipul bunei mele, un chip bland dar hotarat.
Mamaia se uita la mine , isi impatureste batista si incepe a-mi povesti, a nu stiu cata oara ,intamplarea petrecuta cu multi , multi ani in urma.
"Era pe iarna asa, pe la inceput, intr-o seara.. Era patru decembrie..si noi eram saraci, cu trei copii, pe vremea ceea nu era usor...tact-tu sa fi avut doi-trei ani.Era o zapada maaare si un ger...facusem focul in soba si numai ce aud cainele latrand. Cineva era pesemne la poarta."
Priveste in poala la batista care o framanta in maini.Pe chipul ei momentul de atunci a ramas intiparit cu aceeasi intensitate care a avut-o la vremea lui trecuta.
"Si ma duc la poarta...cand ajung , ce sa vezi, un batran, cu toale simple pe el si albeeee de-ti lua ochii,iar pe umeri avea o blana de mieluta. Avea mosul o barba mare si atat de alba... Si imi spune: Femeie buna, ma poti gazdui pana maine dimineata ? am coborat oile de la munte si acum ma duc spre casa dar e prea frig sa pot sa mai merg acum." "Sigura ca da, i-am spus si i-am deschis poarta. Si era o zapada maicaaa...de nici cainele sa-l lasi pe drum daramite un om batran."

Mamaita is trage spre spate basmaua cazuta pe ochi si cele cateva fire albe , razmerite ,sunt asezate cuminti la locul lor, sub batic.
"Si apoi? ce a urmat mamaie?"

Ca si cand mi-ar fi povestit pentru prima data intamplarea , isi roteste privirea prin odaie si ochii i se opresc la singura icoana pe care o avea in casa: cea a Sfantului Niculae.

"Apoi l-am poftit in casa, dar i am zis: Mosule, noi suntem oameni saraci, am doua odai insa numai una are soba...cealalta e de buna, vara. Nu i nimic surioara, imi gasesc eu un loc unde sa ma asez in odaita voastra. Si a scos, maica, dintr-o desaga o bucata mare de branza si o paine rotunda si mi a zis: Da la copii branza si painea . Apai noi nu avem decat ceva mamaliga cu cartofi copti...mare saracie era maica, mare... . Da-mi mie mamaliga si cartofii si voi mancati branza cu paine. Si uite asa, am mancat cu totii, in tacere , dar nu inainte ca mosul sa se roage de inceperea cinei. Si apoi , i am zis, mosule , dormim noi cu copiii pe jos ca nu se cade sa te las pe dumneata sa dormi pe jos...Nu a vrut in ruptul capului, maica; nu si nu el doarme pe jos. Si ne puseram sa dormim...numai ce-l vad pe mos ca se duce intr-un colt al odaii si sta si se roaga...si sta, si sta..Apoi, cand am zis ca a terminat si s-o culca, incet, fara sa se auda un zgomot s-a mutat in alt colt al odaii si iar ruga, tot atat ca in primul colt. Si toata nopticica asta a facut, maica, pana la patru dimineata , in cele patru colturi de odaie! Apoi s a pus de a dormit o ora, dupa care m-a trezit si mi-a spus: Femeie, eu tre` sa plec de acum. Multumesc de gazduire si Domnul sa va aiba in paza! Am iesit dupa el sa l duc pana la poarta si ce sa vezi..!Ningea cu niste fulgi maaaaari, asa de frumosi erau, mamica, dar un intuneric gros...ca de, era cinci dimineata. Cu pasi rari mosul a pornit pe poteca inzapezita.. era un geeer de scartaia zapada sub talpi..Si in timp ce ma uitam dupa el , asa cam pe la Costandina la poarta, vedeam cum incet, incet pasii lui nu mai atingeau zapada pentru ca usor , usor se inalta...Da, maica! Se ridica de pe poteca!.La casa lui Gica lui Dragan, brusc a disparut.."
"De ce a disparut , mamaie?" intreb eu. " Eeeei, maica, eu cred ca ala a fost Sfantul Niculae, prea mult s-o rugat toata noaptea...l-a trimis Dumnezeu ca eram oameni saraci dar cinstiti"

Apoi tacu. Ochii ei mari priveau cu evlavie , ridicati spre mica icoana inegrita de fum a Sfantului Niculae.
"Acela a fost Sfantu` Niculae, maica, sa stii...el a fost."










Winter story with Saint Nicholas (told by my grandmother who lived the story)

"Grandmother, tell me once again about that old man coming down from the mountains .... I was looking askance at my good face, a gentle but determined face.
Grandmother looks at me, folds her handkerchief and starts telling me, I don't know how many times, the event happened many, many years ago.
"It was at the beginning of winter, in one evening. It was December 4th .. and we were poor, with three children, at the time it was not easy ... your father had for two or three years. It was a light snow and a frost ... I had made the fire in the stove and just to start to hear the dog barking. Someone was at the gate. "
She looks at the lap to her hard worked hands. By her face the moment from the past remained  with the same intensity that it had in the past.
And I go to the gate ... when I get there, what to see, an old man, with simple clothes on him and they were so white to take your eyes, and he had a lamb fur on his shoulders. He had a big beard and was so white ... And he says, Good woman, can you host me until tomorrow morning? I have lowered the sheep from the mountain and now I return home, but it is too cold to go now. "" Of course, yes, I told him and I opened the door. And it was a snow, dear ... no dog to leave on the road, especially a human
Grandma pulls the fallen head kerchief over her eyes, and the little white hairs are neatly placed to their place, under the head kerchief.- And then what happened , grandmother?
As if for the first time she told me the story, grandmother turns her eyes around the room and her eyes stop at the only icon she had in the house: that of Saint Nicholas.
Then I asked him to coming in the house, but I said: Old man,  we are poor people, I have two rooms but only one has a stove ... the other is good, in summer. It`s doesnt matter, my sister, I will find a place to sit in your room. And he pulled out from his saddlebag a large piece of cheese and a round loaf  and he said: Give the children bread and cheese. Old man, we only have some baked potatoes and polenta ... great poverty was, dear child , terrible one.... Give me the polenta and the potatoes, he said,  and you all will eat cheese with bread. And look, we all ate in silence, but not before the old man was praying for dinner.
And then, I said to him we sleep with the children on the floor because it doesn't fall to let him to sleep on the floor ... He didn't want at all, dear; no and no, he does sleep on the floor. And we were going to sleep ... only when I see the old man go to a corner of the room and stay and pray ... and pray, and pray ... Then when I thought he finished and went to sleep , slowly, without hearing a noise, he moved to another corner of the room and again he prayed, just as in the first corner. And all this night he did, dear, until four in the morning, in the four corners of the room! Then he went to sleep for an hour, then he woke me up and said, Woman, I have to leave now.Thank you for hosting and the Lord can keep you safe! I went after him to take him to the gate and see what!It was snowing with big snowflakes, they were so beautiful, dear, but a thick darkness ... it was five a clock in the morning. With rare steps, the old man started on the snow-covered path; beneath his soles the snow was cracking and then easy he started to rise to the sky .... easy , easy. He rose from the path under my eyes! Near Gică Drăgan's house suddenly he disappeared. "Why is he dissapeared, grandma ? "I'm asking." Well, dear child, I think he  was Saint Nicholas,he prayed too much all night long... God sent him to us because we were poor, but honest people. "
Then she was quiet. The big her eyes looked with godliness, looking up at the small, black smoke icon of St. Niculae.
" It was Saint Nicholas for sure , dear child, ... the saint of the children.

2 comentarii:

Mihaella Gheorghiu spunea...

Bună...frumoasă povestirea.Era o vreme când sfinții apăreau mai des,oamenii erau mai credincioși și mai puțin păcătoși...și mama îmi povestește minuni de acest gen petrecute în copilăria ei.

Daniela spunea...

Bine ai venit si multumesc de comentariu :)
Pacat ca a disparut acea vreme...eu inca incerc sa o descopar undeva, poate mai dainuie intr-un sat uitat de timp, in Apuseni sau in oricare sat unde batranii se incapataneaza sa traiasca amintirea acelei vremi apuse.

Am obosit...