Symeon could never forget the enchanting Chapel of the Holy Trinity in his hometown, to which he had been deeply attached since childhood.
“I have left my home and my parents, but I cannot forget this chapel,” he repeated to himself.
Now, having come down to the city to meet the bishop on matters concerning the monastery, an inner voice urged him to visit the church without delay.
In front of the iconostasis, a woman was praying on her knees. For a moment, Symeon’s mind drifted to Triantafyllia, yet the sorrowful woman before him bore no resemblance to the young girl he once knew.
“Your blessing, Father,” the woman said. “This is the first time I have seen you in our little church. You must be a stranger.”
“I am a stranger… a stranger. And you? Are you from here?”
“Yes, I am… from Bathyrema.”
Symeon was struck with shock.
It was Triantafyllia.
- The Confession
For years, she had struggled to confess the burden she carried in her heart. A deep inner battle had consumed her life.
At last, she spoke:
“Father, I have carried a heavy burden for many years. I have been searching for a priest to confess my sins. I have betrayed my husband. I have a child out of wedlock. Lord, have mercy on me.”
Symeon, concealing the turmoil within him, responded with compassion and spiritual guidance.
Throughout his life, Symeon sought not emotional fulfillment**,** but the spiritual healing of others. He concealed his identity so that Triantafyllia could speak freely, without fear or emotional turmoil. Despite his exhaustion and the passing of the years, he sought to heal the wounds that sin had left upon her soul.
- Triantafyllia’s family: A story of tragedy
For her part, Triantafyllia was drawn to the holiness of the man before her and did not wish to leave his side.
The simplicity of the church deepened the moment—the peace, the mountain breeze, the birdsong, the silent saints in the icons, and the warm glow of the oil lamps.
In that sacred stillness, she revealed everything.
“My father became very ill. It was not a sickness, but the wrath of God. His body was full of worms that consumed him alive.
After three months, he asked to confess and receive Holy Communion. The priest was my father-in-law. He confessed him, and my father received Communion from his hands.
He made the sign of the cross and whispered, ‘My God, forgive me,’ and then he died.”
“After my father’s death, I fell into despair. I could not stay alone in the house. Then I heard knocking at the door and a familiar voice: ‘My child Triantafyllia, I am Father Andreas.’
He begged me to stay with them. I remained in their house until they died. They never judged me for what I had done. They were holy people.”
“I was left with my son Dimitrios, but I lost him as well.
At the age of seventeen, a firman was issued for the devshirme—the levy of Christian boys.
In order to escape the danger of forced conversion to Islam, he fled into the mountains. Three years have passed, and I do not know where he is—whether he is alive or dead.”
Symeon listened in silence…
Next in this series: “I Want to See Symeon!”
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