It was the twenty-second of December, the day of our holy “Fate-decider” Anne. In a poor saklia (native hut) not far from the road leading into town there sat a very young, beautiful girl, surrounded by a number of children. She was bitterly crying. On this day the father of this unhappy family died in jail; and that same terrible day, when he was taken away from his home and locked up against his will, the poor mother breathed her last breath. For what reason they had imprisoned him, the children did not know. They tenderly loved their father and in their true childish imagination it seemed to them as though he could not be wrong in any department of life whatever. The last time that they had seen him, he informed them that people would come and punish him even before the fÊte, and so they diligently prayed for his deliverance and salvation to the holy martyr Anastasia—and, behold! on the day of her celebration, she cut the cords and bands which prevented him from enjoying the blessings of home life and delivered him forever from prison as well as from the terrible punishment.

“Zenobi!” remarked one of the children, “I want to eat.” “Sit ye all down,” replied the young girl, rising and drying her mournful tears. She covered the table with a simple blue cloth with white flowers and placed on it a star-formed vessel, on which a whole mountain of rice was seen.

“Pray ye first and then eat to your hearts’ content,” she said.

“But thou, darling, wilt thou not join our company?” asked the older boy.

“I will eat afterwards; just now I have no time, but I will readily eat up all you leave!”

Zenobi forced herself to smile although tears were really choking her; this was all the food which remained in their house, they had no money whatever—how and with what were the children to be fed the next day? That was the question which constantly came into her mind and kept her from being quiet. Wishing to conceal her worry, she went out—but her brother took advantage of her absence in order to somewhat restrain the appetite of the children.

“Leave something for Zenobi,” said he, “for I believe she has eaten nothing since morning; all the bread which was left she divided among us without keeping a single piece for herself.”

Noticing also that the quantity of rice was constantly diminishing, he assumed a more decided tone:

“Enough!” he suddenly broke out, rising from his chair. “Pray ye to God and go out to play in the street, the sun is shining in all its wonderful glory—lose no time while it is warm and comfortable!” and taking the smallest of the children by the hand, he read aloud the after-dinner prayer and went out.

“Zenobi!” he cried, coming out, “we have all finished.” The young girl entered the room, hastily crossed herself and with anxiety sat down and began to eat the rice, but she had not succeeded in swallowing the first morsel, when the door of the saklia opened itself and a poor, poor hermit came in.

“In the name of the Infant Jesus let me get rested, refresh myself and have something to eat!” said he. Zenobi immediately rose; hunger was torturing her, but she did not hesitate for a moment to offer him her forlorn repast.

“Yes, may God be blessed, who hath sent a guest even to our poor saklia for such a great celebration!” she answered; “eat—while I prepare thee a comfortable bed,” and having done everything to make the foreign traveller feel as much at home as possible, she went out into the street, in order to keep the children quiet during the sleep of the wise old man.

After two hours he came out, sat down along by the saklia on a huge stone which took the place of a bench, and pleasantly called the children. His touching, caressing voice and his great good eyes instantly won him forever the sincere love of the dear children, they gayly ran up to him, while he pulled a small apple from his pocket and a Sitzevian handkerchief.

“If you bring me four quills from this fine thorn-bush,” said he, pointing to a very large bush growing within a few steps from the saklia, “I will arrange a very nice and amusing toy for you.”

Within a minute the children stood again before him—this time their hands full of quills. The hermit thereupon took up four of them and fastened with their help the corners of the large handkerchief to the apple—afterwards wound a handkerchief around the whole concern and threw it so high into the air that it really looked like an insignificant little dark point. The children in amazement did not lose sight of this point and soon beheld a small balloon lowering itself in their direction; the air filled out the handkerchief, giving it thus the look of a small air balloon, which, gracefully flying between earth and sky, gradually descended to their poor home. There was no end to the children’s delight, each one of them wished to toss the dear toy higher than the first.

While they were going through various exercises, running and making a lot of noise, Zenobi sat down at the side of her delightful guest and began to ask him from what place he came.

“I, my child, come from the capital,” he said; “to-day there is an unusual commotion over there. The heralds proclaimed on all the city squares that the sovereign would spare no reward to him who would bring the best imaginable necklace into the palace and that by the FÊte of Circumcision of the Lord.

“In the nation a report is being spread that the only daughter of the widower-Tsar took some kind of a most terrible disease which not even the most experienced or energetic doctor is able to define or heal in any way. Something extraordinary, unseen, unheard of! Heavy bands were tying down the young Tsarevna by the hands and legs and deprived her of free movements, so that she actually resembled a corpse much more than a live being.

“In this night she had had a very remarkable dream—as though some powerful voice had promised her to cut the bands which kept her down, upon the Day of the Circumcision of the Lord, if by that day she had succeeded in finding a necklace for her magnificent neck which by its splendor exceeded all ornaments of the kind until then known.”

Saying this, the old man rose. “I should like to reach that house to-day,” he said, “it is high time to set forth for the journey; but how can I express my gratitude to thee, my dear child, for thy wonderful hospitality?

“Well, do not despise these lavashees (little breads), and may the Lord increase every kind of food in your most hospitable house.”

“Amen,” said Zenobi with all her heart, taking up the lavashees and looking back at the departing hermit. A little later she began to assemble the children around the house.

“Thanks to our guest you will have very dainty lavashees for supper this evening,” she said to them, entering the saklia.

But what must have been her complete surprise when she saw her star-formed vessel standing on the table and filled to overflowing with rice. There was so little of it left when she had offered her dinner to the stranger; where then had this veritable mountain of rice come from? She stared at her older brother and their astonished eyes soon met each other.

“Isn’t all this wonderful! How quickly the saintly blessing of the wise hermit was fulfilled,” said he, and, falling down on their knees, the whole family began to pray most ardently and afterwards joyfully sat down to their well deserved and this time plentiful supper. In front of each child lay a fresh lavash (roll), on which Zenobi had thoughtfully piled up a large amount of rice. Having eaten the rice, each one ate a lavash too and all were perfectly satisfied, but there yet remained some rice and lavashees. Zenobi gathered the remains and the next morning the dish was again as full as ever and there were enough lavashees for all. Thus the wonder repeated itself for eight days in succession, but on the Eve of the Circumcision of the Lord, the dish looked just the way it did when they took it off the table, neither rice nor lavashees had increased. Zenobi decided to lay up what was left for dinner and let the children go to walk without a breakfast. In order to induce them not to think of melancholy events, she wisely reminded them of the excellent toy which the dear old traveller had left with them. They immediately ran off to find the handkerchief and indeed had a very hard time; in the end Zenobi herself started out for the search and managed to find it in some remote, dark corner.

It was filled with something heavy and she naturally imagined that it must be rice. Delighted by this thought, she quickly placed the handkerchief on the table and untied it; inside of it there was a magnificent, blindingly beautiful jewel necklace! The children stood around in a circle, their little mouths opened as wide as possible.

“Let us run this minute to the town,” exclaimed the older boy, “I say, let us run, Zenobi, dear, we will still succeed to get the necklace to the palace before midnight!” And taking each other’s hand, brother and sister ran on the road with what they had found by accident. The town was not very far; by noon they were already on the palace square, in the very centre of which a long, long table was erected.

On it they opened and inspected the necklaces which various people brought and the Royal officials carefully put down in a large book the names of the strangers interested. These were extremely numerous and our poor little acquaintances hardly had the patience to wait for their turn to come. The official unbelievingly looked at their humble attire and the poor, insignificant handkerchief. Having placed the object on the table, he nevertheless untied the handkerchief.

A cry of complete astonishment rang out from the mouths of all those present, and before the poor orphans had time to think the matter over, they were already standing in the bedroom of the suffering Tsarevna and saw how the Tsar, her father, with a trembling hand placed the necklace on his invalid daughter’s neck. Then turning to them, he naturally asked who they were and where under the sky they had found such an unheard of and extraordinary treasure.

Zenobi with true childlike straightforwardness related all that had taken place to the Tsar, who patiently listened to her simple, yet most pathetic speech, in which one could clearly make out her warmest faith in God and her thankfulness and gratitude to the holy martyr Anastasia; he actually felt very much moved and sweet tears were to be seen in his great eyes.

“Take my guests,” he said to those near him, pointing to Zenobi and her brother, “feed them, let them drink and appease their aroused feeling and great anxiety, but when they are rested, clothe them in the finest costumes and bring them hither.”

Then he ordered his aides-de-camp to bring the image of the all-holy Fate-decider and having placed it on the pillow of the little princess, he gave orders that the prayers for her speedy recovery and convalescence should begin.

By order of the King, the doors of the palace were solemnly thrown open and all who desired to pray were allowed to enter the enormous precincts of the bedroom. The number of those praying increased hourly; not long before midnight the chamberlains and ladies of honor of His Majesty the King conducted our dear little acquaintances, attired in gorgeous costumes, which gave still greater charm and beauty to their natural handsomeness and grace. The grieved Tsar made a sign, indicating his wish that they should stand in a line with him; all eyes were fixed on Zenobi, who, not noticing anything special, quietly fell down on her knees and instantly began to pray with all her heart and soul.

Exactly at midnight the Tsarevna raised her head and happily looked at the loyal people who had been praying for her; then made the holy sign of the cross—then actually sat up in bed! The King rushed towards her and took her up in his arms. The child put her arms around her father’s neck and sweet, sweet tears flowed out of the eyes of both, and how open-heartedly and sincerely they sang, together with the people present, a true song of praise to the holy martyr Anastasia! At the end of the prayer, the Tsar led the Tsarevna to Zenobi and said:

“After God and His holy servant thou must certainly thank her, whom He chose to be the instrument of thy precious recovery, yes, may she take the place of thine all-beloved late mother!”

All present naturally hastened to bring their loyal and dutiful congratulations to the Tsar and his bride, but the little Tsarevna quite overwhelmed Zenobi with caresses and kisses.

Immediately some noblemen were sent after her brothers and sisters, who from that time onwards lived at the palace and were educated together with the dear little princess.

Zenobi, however, having become Queen never forgot the poor, the religious and the queer, and the Lord blessed her with the birth of a son, who immediately became heir-presumptive to the throne. The reign of her husband was most peaceful and happy, and having lived to an advanced age in model mutual accord, the reigning sovereigns died both on the same day, reminding their son never to forget the Only Real and True Faith, the Faith of Our Lord Jesus Christ.