A miraculous story for the feast day of Saint Spyridon of Trimythous

Saint Spyridon of Trimythous. Mosaic in the Church of Saint Spyridon, Trieste, Italy

It is often said that Saint Spyridon performs miracles related to acquiring homes, apartments, or successful rentals.

It is unclear where the tradition of appealing to Saint Spyridon for such worldly matters originated. His life story reflects completely different values.

Once, while traveling, Saint Tryphillius, a disciple of Saint Spyridon, accompanied his teacher to Parimna. The area's extraordinary beauty inspired Tryphillius to secretly desire a piece of land to build a monastic courtyard for prayer, contemplation, and labor on the fertile soil.

Sensing this, Saint Spyridon was horrified at his disciple's thoughts and exclaimed:
"Why do you, Tryphillius, think of vain things? You desire an estate that holds no real value. Do you not know that our treasures are in Heaven? We have a house not made with hands, eternal. Strive for it! Delight your heart with this thought through devotion to God. It does not change or decay. Whoever possesses it will receive an inheritance that will never be taken away."

This teaching astonished Tryphillius, as he had not uttered a word about his thoughts. Realizing that these admonitions were from God, he never again contemplated acquiring property.

This lesson through Saint Spyridon should serve as a caution to those who pray to the saint for assistance with housing issues.

Yet, such is the mercy of Saint Spyridon that he condescends to human weaknesses and helps even with requests he forbade his disciple to entertain.

People often pray to him for a home, to buy or sell property advantageously, or to rent a room cheaply. And what happens? The saint helps! Numerous testimonies attest to this.

Nevertheless, Saint Spyridon is not a "specialist" saint limited to real estate matters. Devoted believers turn to him for help with their most intimate desires, grave problems, sorrows, and urgent needs.

For example, Sister Alexandra (in monasticism, Rachel) of the Kyiv Florivsky Monastery once shared a story from the Soviet era. She pleaded with the Holy Theotokos and Saint Spyridon to save her son, who had died young without repentance. This ascetic, who took on the yurodivy (fool-for-Christ) way of life, prayed to Saint Spyridon as if he were her own family member, asking God to have mercy on her son.

One day, as was her custom, Sister Alexandra was feeding pilgrims in her small basement cell with borscht from the monastery kitchen. She shared her grief over her deceased son and asked for prayers for him. An elderly man suddenly suggested that she feed pigeons with leftover food:
"As Spyridon tended earthly flocks, so you tend heavenly ones!"

This simple suggestion delighted the elder nun, who saw it as a blessing.

On the first day she fed the pigeons, which flocked to her in great numbers, she noticed a small, old icon of Saint Spyridon resting on a ledge of a brick wall by the monastery garage. It seemed abandoned, but to her, it was a sign that brought her great joy and confirmed her actions.

From then on, Sister Alexandra prayed even more fervently to Saint Spyridon while feeding the pigeons.

Many criticized her for "making a mess" in the monastery, even though it was on the outskirts of the courtyard. Despite the reproaches, she continued to tend her "heavenly flock."

One morning, as she went to pray and feed the pigeons, she suddenly saw an elderly man opposite her, smiling as he scattered crumbs for the birds. She did not know where he had come from. The man approached her, took a large prosphora from his coat, and said:
"Oh, your prayer is so loud! Here, take this –  it’s from your son!"

Before she could react, the mysterious visitor disappeared as if he had dissolved into the air. She was left holding the prosphora, which bore the seal-icon of Saint Spyridon.

Those who visited Sister Alexandra's cell would see a portrait of her son with a small, old wooden icon of Saint Spyridon attached to it. She often spoke of her gratitude to the saint and compared young visitors to her son, sometimes prophetically telling them they would "remove particles from prosphora," a role many later fulfilled as priests.

Why recall this story now? What makes it remarkable? It shows how maternal sacrificial love and the heavenly paternal ministry of Saint Spyridon united to achieve an extraordinary goal: the salvation of a human soul.

Few remember that Saint Spyridon himself had a family and experienced loss. Perhaps this memory of pain and concern for his loved ones inspired the saint to help the grieving nun who dedicated her monastic life to praying for her departed child.

This story reminds us of the connection between the heavenly and earthly worlds. It assures us that no tear or prayer goes unnoticed by Heaven. Therefore, there is no reason for despair. We have a vast host of intercessors, and among them, Saint Spyridon of Trimythous shines with special glory as a wonderworker.

Read also

When the ice breaks: Why winter cannot outlast spring

In a world where it is “always winter and never Christmas,” we recognize our own reality. Why the ice of despair is doomed to melt, and what price God paid for our spring.

The saint's broken nose: What doctors found in Nicholas the Wonderworker's tomb

On the results of the 1953 examination – traces of torture, prison arthritis, and the mystery of myrrh flowing from dry bones, which science has been unable to explain for more than half a century.

Seven bishops against wild Crimea: How the Church took the Chersonesus foothold

Why Christianity in Crimea began with a "one-way ticket", how prayer hit the ancient market, and why a bishop entered a blazing furnace.

How Uncle Kolya the janitor believed in God

In Soviet times, people of the older generation were most often believers. But they hid their faith carefully and never put it on display. This is one such story.

God in the queue: Why Bruegel’s painting shows no Christmas glory

About the coldest and most honest Christmas painting – one that teaches us to see hope amid bureaucracy, war, and winter.

Not magic, but faith: Christian code of The Lord of the Rings

Tolkien wrote his book in memory of muddy trenches and a typhus ward. We explore why weakness triumphs in his world, and how to glimpse the Star when the sky is sealed by shadow.