The Great Elder Paisie (Olaru), Part 1He received anyone who knocked on the door of his cell—always, at any time. He would hear confessions without stopping, for several days in a row, day and night. No one knew when he slept or ate.
“>Part 1
By decision of the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church on July 11–12, 2024, 
Romanian Synod canonizes 16 martyrs, confessors, and ascetics of the 20th-centuryThe Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church formally approved the canonization of more than a dozen martyrs, confessors, and ascetics of the 20th century at its session on July 11–12.
“>sixteen God-pleasers who shone forth in the twentieth century were glorified among the saints. Among them is Hieroschemamonk Paisie (Olaru; 1897–1990), the spiritual father of Sihăstria Monastery, who from now on will be known as St. Paisie of Sihăstria, whose feast will be celebrated on December 2 (new style).
Twilight
The Holy Transfiguration Church at Sihla Skete, 1763. Photo: sihla.mmb.ro
Night has fallen in Sihla—the kind of night that monks transform into day through their prayers and vigils. Fr. Paisie is quite elderly now, but it seems he’s been this way since the beginning of time, as if he was born with gray temples and a white beard—exactly how every good spiritual father should be.
He was already over eighty, sixty years of which he spent in a monastery—the angelic life. At midnight, all the monks go to church, without exception. The Elder’s feet tread in the darkness on the stone steps leading to the church. There’s a steep, bad ravine below, but two disciples have learned to support his body, light as a feather, withered in prayer and fasting. Father stumbles on the rocks every now and then and jokes:
“Well, these boulders have grown! They weren’t this big last night!”
Eighty years weigh heavily on his shoulders. But he fights against his infirmities and hears confessions, just as he did in the beginning. However, now it’s time for the service, the Midnight Office—and the pilgrims will wait for him until dawn.
Father enters the church, lit by a dim candle. They don’t have any light in the skete, but it’s even better that way, because the mind is more concentrated in the flickering semi-darkness. At the appropriate moment, Fr. Paisie reads the prayer, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy great mercy.” He always reads it. They’re the words of a psalm written by King David thousands of years ago. You can always hear them in church; they’re always in all the services and in the prayer rule, and yet in Father’s mouth, they awaken feelings that you didn’t know before. Father’s disciple said that he didn’t pray like the rest of us:
“When he pronounced the words, it was as though he was describing the world beyond.”
Miracle
It was a harsh winter in the forests of Sihla, and a college girl and a young girl were struggling to make it to the skete. They left Sihăstria at noon. And although it was snowing heavily, they thought they’d get there quickly. But they were wrong. They became exhausted on the steep path and darkness quietly surrounded them. Soon they were completely lost. No one knew about them, and they were already on the verge of despair. They wandered through the thickets among rocky boulders, rejoicing every time they saw a bright spot and thought it was Sihla Skete. They moved more and more slowly, and when they stopped to catch their breath, the snow falling from above covered them.
Late in the evening, around nine o’clock, when they had already lost all hope, they suddenly saw a light. It was the headlight of a car stuck in a snowbank on the way to the skete. A husband, wife, and two shivering children were sitting in it. They joined up with them, walked together, and before midnight arrived, they found themselves in the vestibule where, as always, pilgrims waited to confess to Fr. Paisie. They were completely exhausted. Suddenly the door opened and the elderly confessor came out, saying:
“Haven’t the two girls gotten here yet?”
“Yes, they arrived safe and sound!” the faithful answered.
“O Most Gracious Mother of God!”
Fr. Paisie hugged them, took off his sheepskin coat, and wrapped it around them. Then he kissed them, as one kisses children. Immersed in prayer, Fr. Paisie saw them and preserved them with his fervent prayer.
Departure
St. Paisie of Sihăstria Fr. Paisie spent the last five years of his life at Sihăstria, bedridden most of the time. His leg was injured, and the monk who cared for him tried to send the faithful away, concerned for his health.
“Eh, Neonil,” the Elder called to him from his cell, “let them in, the poor things. Let them enter so I can hear their confessions—it’s my legs that hurt, not my tongue.”
Over the years, his eyesight gradually went blurry. But he had one desire left: to leave behind stories about the monks he had met in his life.
“And so I had surgery on one eye, and now with glasses, I can write these trifles.”
The “trifles” were saints’ lives, but the Elder reproved himself to avoid falling into pride. After each story, Father would add two or three verses, for better remembrance:
Death is not to blame,
Only people are to blame.
You must prepare well,
And when it visits, invite it in.
He always awaited it, death. But God granted him many years so that he could lead people to the light.
He reposed on October 18, 1990, in his cell at Sihăstria. He was over ninety-three. It was a holy death, peaceful and bright in the hope of Paradise.
When he departed, streams of people who used to visit his cell came to accompany him on his final journey: the elderly and young, rich and poor, sophisticated intellectuals and simple peasants from all corners of the country. And in a stream of prayer, they carried him to the very gates of Paradise, from where, according to his word, he could call upon the Mother of God to open them for him.
Fr. Paisie’s prayer of blessing for pilgrims:
May God forgive you. May God hear you. May God see you. May God love you. May God accompany you. May God protect you. May God guide you. May God comfort you. May God help you. May God protect you from enemies. May God tame them. May God soften your heart. May God grant you to forget evil. May God help you not to do evil. May God direct you to do good. May God make you merciful. May God give you the strength to forgive. May God grant you to see the good in others.
St. Paisie of Sihăstria