Metropolitan Neophytos of Morphou:

“A woman from Limassol once told me—I have told you this story before.

The poor woman was going to pick up her child from school. Her child was ten years old, and his name was Andreas. Andreas was truly his name.

She was waiting, and the child saw his mother across the street and ran toward her.

A car came, hit the child, and threw him into the air. He fell dead at his mother’s feet.

A ten-year-old child.

Anyway, she came to me and said, with that tough Limassol attitude:

‘Be careful what you are going to tell me. Many people have sent me to you. If you do not fill my soul with what you are going to tell me, I am going to go and kill myself.’

Imagine what poor Neophytos felt at that moment.

She cried and said to me, ‘Tell me, tell me…’

And inside myself I was saying:

‘Christ, enlighten me. Give me one word to say—just one—that will fill the soul of this grieving mother.’

As she was crying, suddenly she did this…”
(he raised his head)

‘Who is that woman?’

It was a portrait of my mother, Milia.

I said:

‘That is my mother, and she also lost a son.’

‘You lost Andreas when he was ten,’ I told her, ‘and she lost hers when he was twenty-four.’

And I told her the well-known story that you know.

But I said to her:

‘He fell into the embrace of Christ, and now Milia has managed, little by little, to intercede for her son, who died without confession, so that Christ might forgive him, raise him into the light, and allow him also to participate in and enjoy the heavenly Divine Liturgy, together with my father, Nicholas, who fell asleep before my brother; then our Stella also fell asleep, my brother-in-law Andreas, and many others from my family.’

‘They are all now at the heavenly Divine Liturgy.’

That was all I told her.

She got up, went and knelt before the portrait of my mother, bowed before it, and said:

‘Woman of God, Grandmother Milia, please tell Christ to send my Andreas to me, even if he can say only one word, and let my Andreas also be where your Peter is.’

She called her daughter, Maria, who was sitting outside. Maria was fifteen years old.

‘Maria, my child, come! We have found what we were looking for.’

Do you understand?

‘We have found the Messiah.’

I am not the Messiah.

Through Milia, she found Christ.

‘Well, aren’t you going to tell me anything?’ she said.

‘What can I tell you?’ I replied. ‘You have said everything yourself.

You have arranged everything with Milia. All I can do is pray that what you have asked for will happen—that Andreas will show you where he is.’

My child, four months later she came to me and told me:

‘I saw Andreas.’

Her ten-year-old child who had died.

‘I saw him,’ she said, ‘but I could not see his face. There was a great light there, and I could not see his face. I could see the rest of his body.’

And I said to my Andreas:

‘Come down, Andreas. What are you doing up there all the time?’

‘No, Mother, I am not coming,’ he told her.

‘It is more beautiful up here.’

‘All right, my son, what do you do all day?’

‘Mother, there is no day and night here,’ he told her.

‘It is always day. It is always Light!’

‘You know,’ he said to her, ‘the Great One comes.’

He did not say that Christ came to her.

‘The Great One comes and celebrates the Divine Liturgy.’

‘And what do you do, my son?’

‘We are around Him, and through His Light, according to the heart we had while we were on earth and according to your prayers, we receive Light.’

‘And we learn things, Mother—so many things.’

‘What were those things they used to tell us at school?’

‘Nonsense—crazy things.’

‘We learn so many things, Mother.’

‘No, Mother, I am not coming down.’

She said to him:

‘My son, let me see your face, just a little.’

‘Mother, it is your eyes that prevent you from seeing the Light of Christ and therefore from seeing my face.’

‘Listen! Your eyes are impure, Mother. Cleanse your eyes, and next time you will also see my face.’

LORD, HAVE MERCY ON US.