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In the Porch, all the day's clangor fades. In the Porch, that golden twilight begins, when the horizons pour forth their nostalgias from beyond and the promises of rest.
In the Porch, everything turns into peace, into that beautiful and good love, from souls with warm bread in the hearth of their hearts, with arms of people, of true people, thirsty for beauty and sharing.
In the Porch, the table is always set, as on a feast day, for Easter or Christmas, when no one clears it anymore, when all of us from the house are gathered together and the provisions are ever better and more steaming, when dinner always remains ready, waiting for a thirsty or a hungry one, to rest him, to feed him!
It is good, it is warm and pleasant at dinner in the Porch, and the speaking food satisfies everyone, for they are words born from a longing for the Word, they are letters from Adam's dough brought as a burnt offering to the Lord and to man. It is good. It is home in the Porch. Even if I were to feed myself with only the dinner crumbs, I would still rejoice!
In the Porch, it sometimes turns night, when poignant texts move the sky, with its distant luminaries, into one's chest. And everything transforms into the silence of the evening, of the summer night when only a cricket still plucks a string, a blackbird still laments late, or a nightingale mourns its longings.
Come, come into the Porch, let's listen together to the silence and the breath of the Spirit through words, through the hearts of beautiful people! Let's weave and tell stories! Fairy tales from the distaff of peace, from the white wool of those of old and far away. Or of those from the deep and yet unsaid. There are also stories born from restlessness and hunger for Heaven, ablaze in shimmering sparks of love! With embers dancing in glimmers and gems of living light! The soul's stories, whispered stories, just enough for every feeling to be heard!
But since we're talking about stories, let me tell you how I met you and how I now sit unworthily at your dinner...
So, I was coming from classes, broken and with the students' din thudding through my mind. I sit on a bus seat and find an article sent by a friend. As soon as I want to open it, I somehow feel that there's something special here, something refined and spiritual, with a sense of calm. I don't remember what article it was, to be honest. But that aura that permeated the entire site remained in my soul. I read the manifesto.Hey it can be, I say! There are still people in the world! I was going through a somewhat cynical period, because I was contextually surrounded only by situations that made me see humanity in its dehumanization, in its lack of meaning and concern for anything other than the day's intrigue and the coarseness of the body. And when I found this manifesto, I literally breathed! I saw light again! This was the strongest feeling then: There are still good and beautiful people! If only the Lord would deem me worthy to know them!
Initially, I had no reference points about you. Then slowly, slowly, familiar names appeared. But I didn't hold out hope, as they say, that we would ever be together. Only in Spirit, thinking of you.
About half a year later, during a visit to the tomb of Venerable Gherontie, among other things, I asked him to help me with the sharing of my speaking ministry. "Coincidence" had it that precisely there I met a beautiful Christian family like us, with many children and "different" concerns compared to this world. The joy of the visit was crowned by the fact that through this family I met the wonderful Anca, a person with an extraordinary capacity for involvement and sacrifice who, as someone said the other day, "sheds her blood for Pridvor." She brought me here, where I stepped awkwardly and timidly, yet hoping in the Lord that He would pour Grace into my humble words, so that He might be shared, and that you might be embraced in His Spirit. And together let us say: Thine Own of Thine Own, we offer unto Thee, in all and for all!
That is why now, in this hour of anniversary, I want to thank you for welcoming me, you, the Fair Princes of Paradise! I embrace you all together, and may the Lord grant that your innermost breath, hidden in words and images, may waft through the wide world, deep into souls! May it bear fruit! May spiritual fruit bear fruit! May your heartbeat for God travel like a carol on the wings of the Holy Spirit, and transform into a sigh for our Lord and God, Who is Love!
Maria Tudor
Photographs by Andreea Stanciu
E P I L O G
My dears, I don't know if it's quite in order to write to you like this, out of the blue, these lines! But I want to thank you again and again! For what you write, for what you are!
During the day I couldn't enjoy Pridvor's day too much, being, as usual, caught in the hustle and bustle of a house with many children and many other things. That is why now, in the dead of night, when most likely you are resting, I can't get enough of celebrating and celebrating, wonder after wonder, Pridvor's anniversary! Celebrating you, with every text, with every pulse! I read and cannot stop reading from the Chronicles of Beauty. In every article, I know and recognize your soul! So alive, so warm, so personal! What pure and sincere friendship! How many of us are thirsty for love and openness!
I rejoice once again to see how through this work, of writing, the word of the Psalter comes alive: „Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise Your Name!”How we truly meet, through the grace of words! Each of you writes so authentically, so nobly, so movingly! And last night you filled my small room with your souls, with the fragrance of your inner presence, each enduring in their own way! Unique and wonderful! I revel in the beautiful breeze that emanates from each of you and thank you for surrounding me, without even realizing it, with such a renewed swaying of souls! A new family, in the Spirit... Now I return to reading and being amazed, perfected in Love!
Maria Tudor