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Narrative of St Onesima

tr. Lewis, 1900

Chapter 4

Again, the story of the blessed Onesima¹.

There was a certain blessed woman in Egypt whose name was Onesima, and she was the daughter of the king. And fifteen cities in the world belonged to her parents. And she being their daughter, they placed the crown on her in their lifetime, for they said, “Lest our royal dynasty be obliterated, let him who comes and takes her, establish the kingdom after us.” For all the floor of their palace was inlaid with slabs of white marble; and all the walls were embossed with sheep and oxen on planks of cedar-wood and on slabs of ivory, and with plates of bronze, incrusted and embossed with narcissi and lilies. And the girl was brought up in such a manner that she was accustomed to read the Scriptures every day of her life from the third hour till the ninth hour. She was adorned with great beauty, passing that of all other women.

Now one day, whilst she was sitting, reading in the Scripture, [something] came into her mind. And she sighed, and wept, and said: “If God has willed, both my parents may die together, and they have not given me to a husband, and I may fall amidst the troubles of this world.” And then a few days afterwards, as if it were by the will of God, both her parents failed and died together. Then the blessed Onesima celebrated their obsequies in white garments. And after her parents were at rest and she had come away from the grave, she went to the church with the crown resting on her head, and prayed; then went joyfully home. But many people were jesting and saying, “It is not proper for a woman, a virgin, the daughter of a king, to display her beauty.” But the blessed one did not take it to heart.

Now many days afterwards as she was sitting and reading from the Gospel, she found where our Lord said to the young man, “Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor, and take up thy cross, and follow Me; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.” Then the blessed Onesima sighed and wept, and said, “Alas! that I should have meditated on divine Scriptures from my childhood and I have not done the one thing that is beautiful in the sight of God and of man.” And she sent instantly and fetched lawyers, and bequeathed everything that belonged to her to the orphans, and to the widows, and to the churches, and to the hospices; and she freed her slaves and bond-maidens; and she went out and stood at the door of her palace. And she took her tunic and her veil from off her head and the girdle of gold from her waist, and the royal crown, and she flung them down inside the door of her palace, saying,” Goodbye to you, O wealth of this world! and gold, and sin², and let the Christ alone be my companion.” Then nothing of the treasures of her ancestors belonged to the blessed one except the Gospel which lay next to her bosom. And when she had arrived at a hostelry, she took a worn-out ragged cloth and put it over her nakedness. Then the blessed one said in her heart, “It is not fitting that I should dwell in a place where there are people who know me, and that they should see me and say, ‘It is she who freed her slaves and her bond-maidens,’ and that they should praise me and that I should exchange the love of the Christ for the glory of this world. I will go away to foreign parts, to where even if I say that something belongs to me, nobody will believe me, and I shall feign myself mad: and no honour will come to me from men, and all who see me will mock me, and despise me, and drive me away. Shall I speak of cultivated land, and not of the desert? But I have read in the Scripture and have glorified God.”

Then the blessed one went out to the wilderness and walked for forty parasangs³. And [instead of] the great luxury that she had possessed, immediately when the sun touched her it burnt her, like a flower stricken by the summer-heat. And she walked in the wilderness and her blood flowed, and trickled from her footprints while she walked on the stumps of the wilderness. Then the blessed one sat down and read from the Scripture in the wilderness, and the wild beasts came together from every place, and creeping things and flying things and fowls, and they sat at the feet of the blessed one, and listened to the sound of the reading of the Scriptures which lasted from the third hour till the ninth hour; and when she took up the book to carry it with her the beasts would go away from her for nine hours and repair to their pastures. And immediately when they were removed from her to a distance of nine steps, they would find their pasture of every kind suitable to each of them, so that some provender was given to every one, because they were constantly coming to her for many days; and for forty years the beasts kept the fasts with her in the wilderness, sitting beside her constantly, and never going completely away from her. And the food of the blessed one was the fruit of date palms, and she drank water from the fountain, until the appearance of her face was like the colour of sackcloth.

And after she had been for forty years in the desert she said to herself, “Woe is me! how I am dwelling in comfort, and I am regaled with eating the fruit of the date palms, and I drink water from the fountain, and I resemble the wild ass that treads on the grass, and there is no voice to tame him, and it is not possible to guide him. I, likewise, have no one to quarrel with me, nor to revile me, nor is there a man to laugh with me, nor with whom I can be angry, that I may be requited for it. For if I be without a man who is the guardian of my soul; I have no recompence, but I will live in the cultivated land in a convent, and I will care for my own soul and for my companions; and I will wash the feet of the sisters, and will give rest to the weary and to the troubled; and I will be despised by the sisters, and I will wash the feet of strangers. And I will be scourged by the Abbess, and will endure it from those who are younger than myself. And I will bear reviling because of my love to the Christ. And I shall have a recompence from God. And I will fast. And when I have fasted they will say, ‘She has been eating.’ And I will abstain from wine, and they will say that I have been drinking at a feast. And I will serve, and they will consider me idle. And I will keep a vigil, and they will call me a sleeper. For if these afflictions do not pass over me, and if I do not endure suffering, and contempt does not pass over me, I shall have no remuneration in the presence of God.”

And the blessed Onesima went to the door of a convent, which was called the Convent of the Sedrarum⁴, in which there were sisters living three hundred in number; and she knocked at the door of this convent. And a certain old sister came out and answered her, who had stood at the door for forty years, till her person had become rigid down to her knees from the heaviness of her life and the antiquity of her years.

The aged one answered and said to her, “Why dost thou knock at this door? Tell me, my daughter, what thou wantest, that I may give it to thee. Perhaps thou art in some pain. Can I do anything that would be of use to thee”? And Onesima was silent for seven days and did not give her an answer. And the aged one said, “Alas for this our daughter, she is surely mad! And I know from her appearance, how beautiful she was; although she is spoiled by demons. I will show favour to her for the sake of God; and I will bring her in and shut her up in one of the cells near the door, and no demon shall come from any of the mountains to oppress her.” And she brought her in and made her sit down in one of the houses, and put three chains upon her, and said to her, “In the name of the Only Son who was hung upon the Cross, I have put three chains upon thee. May the power of the only Son of God help thee!” And the aged one left her chained near the door, and went in and said to the Abbess, “My Lady! My Lady! this daughter of ours is led captive by Satan, the destroyer of men. And she passed by the door and it has come out by the force of thy prayer and thou hast delivered her from its hands.” She commanded her to enter. The Abbess said to her, “What dost thou wish?” “That I may bring in God’s afflicted one and wash her feet, that ye may give rest to the weary and the troubled, and to those who carry heavy burdens; and if ye are washing the feet of strangers, may their dust be upon us [as] the filth of our sins.”

And the sisters went out with the door-keeper and brought in the blessed one. And she feigned herself mad and did not wish to enter with them. And when they had surrounded her they brought her in by force, and they were going to take the book from her, and they could not get it out of her hands as she did not give it to them. But she feigned herself mad, as one who did not know what they were saying to her. But they were saying to each other, “What is that book which she is carrying, and which she did not allow to be snatched from her hands?” And they tried to wash her feet, and she did not allow them [to do it,] and—like one who was really mad—she tore the clothes of the sisters. And they put questions to her, and she did not answer them. And when they saw her thus, they said to the Abbess, “If she cries out, leave her there, and be cautious about her, lest the evil one come, and throw her into the fire. And they left her in the prison.” And she slept there and got up. And there she went in and out and swept the prison-house. And she did work on behalf of every one. And day by day like a person who is kneading dough she was beating with her feet, and crying out as if the demon had come upon her. And she was scourged by the sisters, and was rejoicing in her mind. And day by day she carried a jar of water, and went out to give drink to strangers at the partings of the highways. And day after day she broke the jar in the courtyard of the convent like a person possessed with a demon. And three times a year a place which the sisters went out to of necessity, was thoroughly washed out by her hands, through the sagacity of her mind (and) for the sake of God. And those who came in and who went out beat her and derided her. And she was buffeted by all of them.

And after the lapse of forty years that she had been in the wilderness, and forty years in the prison of the convent, eighty years in all, the angel of God appeared to the blessed Abbot of the Anchorites, who had been shut up in a cell for many years, and said to him, “Dudina, thy service has been pleasing to the guardian angels, and the angels rejoice in thy vigil. Now go out of thy cell, and go to receive a blessing from a woman who is shut up in the prison in the convent of the Sedrarum, and thy service will be doubled again the more with the divine talent and the merchandise of the Christ.” And the blessed one went forth from his retreat and persuaded the Bishop and the superintendent to give him leave to go to the convent, because men did not enter it. And because he was the Abbot of Abila, and was very excellent in his life, the Bishop and superintendent did not refuse, nor forbid him to enter that convent. And when the blessed one went and arrived at it, the angel of God said to him, “When thou dost enter the convent, behold all the sisters have put on hoods; and the sister about whom thou hast been told, has a crown of old rags on her head, and she is all but naked; approach and receive her blessing.” And the brethren went before him and said to them, “Behold, the blessed Abbot of the Anchorites has come to receive a blessing from you.” And all the sisters were greatly agitated with weeping, and said, “Woe to us, for our sins have been exposed in the presence of God, and the servant of God is come to curse us. And we shall be condemned by the just judgment of God.”

And when he was about to enter, the sisters went out to meet him, with psalms and hymns also. But that sister did not go out with them, because she said in her heart, “I will feign myself mad, and I will stay quietly in the prison, and I shall not go out. And he will see me, and prayer will be made to God for me, (to know) who I am and whose daughter I am. And he will make it known to the sisters and he will honour me, and I shall destroy the work that I have wrought before God.”

And all the sisters advanced and saluted him, and were blessed by him. And when he stood up, he looked here and there, and that sister did not appear to him amongst them, about whom the angel of the Lord had spoken to him. And he answered and said to the Abbess, “There is one of your sisters wanting, she is not amongst you, and I desire to see her.” The Abbess replied and said to him, “There is no sister here, my lord, except one who is mad, and it is not possible for her to go out, because she is deranged.” And the blessed one said, “Send and fetch her.” And the sisters went in to seek her: but she did not want to go out with them. And whilst they were dragging her along and striking her on the face, and sprinkling ashes on her eyes, and beating her with the besoms of the prison-house and saying to her, “Get out, wicked demon! behold! thy demon knows the agent of the Christ who is standing outside, and it forbids thee to come out lest he should cast it out from thee.” And as they were dragging her and bringing her out, the blessed saint the Abbot of the Anchorites saw her, and he ran to meet her, and he fell down and did obeisance to her, and took off the cowl from his head and said, “Bless me, my lady!” And the sisters answered and said to him, “Rise, my lord! she is a mad woman.” And he said to them, “It is ye who are mad women, but she is the salt which flavours the savourless, which Satan had made insipid by reason of sins.” And when he had said this to them, they were pained in their heart, and they repented and opened their eyes with weeping, and they stripped off the three hundred veils from their heads. And they threw themselves down before him and said to him, “My lord, intercede with her, that she may tread with a holy step on the veils, for there is not one of us who has not sinned against her.” For there was one saying, “I have certainly beaten her;” and one said, “I have certainly struck her;” and another said, “When I washed a dish or a kettle I threw it at her head, on a day of snow and ice.” And saying these things they came and fell at the feet of the saint and beat their heads on the ground, saying to her, “Have mercy upon us, handmaid of God, thou who art entering into the marriage-supper of light, and persuade the lord of the feast not to drive us out at the door into outer darkness.” And as they said these things they wept and fell down before her until the convent became like a field that had been irrigated with water from the tears of their eyes.

Now the blessed one was inwardly perplexed; but outwardly she laughed, whilst they were saying these things to her, till a voice from heaven was heard, saying to them: “I have accepted, and I accept the tears of your repentance.” And the blessed one heard that voice speaking to them. And immediately the blessed [man] led her and took her over these veils to a broad path in the form of a cross. And he said to them: “May God give health to your hidden companions!” And he preached to them from the third hour till the ninth hour; then he arose and went out, and they accompanied him as far as the door of the convent. And when they had reached the door they said to him: “My lord, behold it is a hundred and thirty years since this convent was built, and there is none here who has seen this door since the first [moment] she entered it, except this old woman who has kept it now for an hundred and two years.” They said to him: “See! at this door we received thee, and at this door we leave thee. But, my lord, go in peace to thy retreat, and pray for us to thy Lord in thy monastery.” And when the blessed one went to the retreat, to the cell which was in the wilderness, the sisters assembled themselves together and they stooped down and carried Saint Onesima in their hands from the door of the convent to the hall of service, rejoicing and triumphing about her as about a precious treasure.

And she was in the convent for about ten days. And whenever she went for a walk, they were gathering up the dust of her steps and rubbing it on their bodies as a medicament. And she was perplexed in her heart at the honour they were paying her. And she looked and saw that the door-keeper was not there; and she ran, and got out and went away, and no one knows where she went to; nor is even where she slept known to men.

And behold! the remembrance of her will be transmitted until the coming of the Son of God. To Him, and to His Father, and to the Holy Spirit, be praise, and honour, and adoration for ever. Here endeth the story of the blessed Onesima.

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