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Our beloved ones,
The miracle continues. Our Pridvor has turned one.
On June 8, 2025, on the glorious feast of Pentecost, we began the first editorial with the words “In Pridvor there is serenity. In Pridvor there is peace”.
It was a dream, of course, absurd even just to think about. To create online a beautiful, bright, serene, and renewed space, a sanctuary of communion and sharing of the good things, equally with the bad. That is, a kind of family where you simply feel good. Unhunted. Untroubled. Only nourished. With our hearts.
How could you imagine such a thing, when you see that the world wants blood, swamps, squalor... Even the most well-behaved among us, when anonymous online, allow themselves to devour, with thirst, everything they lack in their dull daily lives. How can you believe that someone will read you, a "soulful" site, when people frantically seek to fulfill their daily dopamine? How can you speak of Christ in a different way, when the keys of our laptops are stuck on correct, straight, self-sufficient letters?
You can't do it any other way than by starting with yourself.
Not with the keys, not with the letters. But by pressing those rusty doorknobs within you, rusted for years, of the doors you only slammed against the wall in childhood. Back when you weren't shaped by the gaze of others, but only by the light of God, in which you “laughed in the sun, child with blond hair”... But that hurts. But that you don't know, you can't, you don't want to do. To place yourself in the line of fire of all the guns, with a bare chest, even flayed, with your heart trembling, scared yet convinced that there is no other way.
Yes, we also offer you blood, swamps, and squalor. But ours, not others'. Plus a crumb of sky.
Yes, Pridvor was an impossible dream. But God made it a possible Heaven.
For this, we bow before you, those who read us, as well as those who write to us. To those of you who are Pridvor. Where we await the Lord. Together. Forever. Amen.
Anca Stanciu
Photography by Anca Stanciu