A Little Before Death ( Memoirs of a Greek Taxi Driver )

Shortly before the year 2000, my mother came over to my house and said, “Son, a few blocks away there is a distressed family with two elementary school girls. They need to live with their grandmother because they are going through a terrible ordeal. Their father, who is about your age, is a drug addict. I know his mother. Please drop by to see what you can do, because his wife and his mother told me that he is in his last days.”

“And what do you think I can do, mom? I can hardly keep up with my own dirty messes, and now all of a sudden you think I can help others?”

“Come on, my boy, you need to go; please, don’t upset me.”

The next day, I complied with my mother’s wish. With the blessing of my mother and my spiritual father, I prayed briefly and said, “My Panaghia, I will go, but you lead and I will follow.” When I arrived at the home, his mother welcomed me with a hug and a kiss. Then she drew me aside, and while she wept, she explained her Golgotha and the heavy cross the entire family had had to bear. As she was unfolding their very painful family drama to me, occasionally, she would use her apron to wipe her eyes. The poor woman had suffered so much all these years. She had gone to various neighborhoods and local businesses to borrow money to help her son get his drugs. What pain this mother had endured! What a Golgotha! What crises families in similar situations must be going through! I couldn't endure so much pain. I hugged her, and told her to have her hope and faith in Christ. When I went to the other room, and I saw her son lying in bed, the truth is that I wasn’t prepared for it; I was shocked. I went to give him my hand, but he couldn’t even exchange a handshake, because his fingers had become deformed. I grabbed him from the wrist and attempted to speak to him, but he would fade in and out of consciousness. With a little patience, however, we became acquainted and shared a few words.

“My brother, I am your neighbor,” I told him “I don’t know you, of course, but you don't know me either. So, since we have become acquainted now, what do you say, can we help one another?”

“It’s too late for me, Thanasi,” he told me in a whispering voice, “I am in the last stage. There is no recovery for me. The doctors can't do anything.”

“Humanly, yes, we agree, but don’t forget the power and grace of our God; what is impossible for man is possible for God” (cf. Luke 18:27).

“I believe in God, Thanasi, but I have fallen into a snake pit. I have made repeated efforts to detoxify myself for many years now but all in vain. I know that I upset my mother, my wife and especially my children. What can I do? I’m not to blame. It’s the deprivation of heroin.”

“So fine, since you believe that you are in a pit with snakes, stretch out your hand and ask the help of Christ. He is the only one who is able to take you out of this pit.”

“What must I do; and how?”

And he faded out again. I needed to wait a few minutes, for him to regain consciousness. In the meantime, I prayed and said, “My Christ, is he listening to what I’m telling him? Can he even think, understand, or remember? Please Lord, only You are able to help us, especially me.” A few moments later, he opened his eyes, and we spoke a bit more. In the end I told him, “I need to leave you now, my brother. The next time I come, if you like, I can bring a priest to read some prayers over you. I think this will do you much good.”

“Yes, Thanasi, I will wait for you. Bring the priest also. I don’t have a problem with that.”

When I came out of the room, there in the hall, I met his wife and their two charming little girls for the first time. They had red swollen eyes. As soon as they saw me they lowered their heads, probably out of shame for the condition of their father. I don’t know, but my heart went out to these little innocent girls; I shared their pain and loved them very much from the first moment. I talked for quite a while with his wife. We said many things, and the poor woman was constantly crying. I left in shambles.

Two days later, I went to his home with a priest, and he read some prayers of Saint Basil over him. I will not forget that I needed to hold him from the shoulder, so he wouldn’t fall down. At the end, we told him what his next steps were. He needed to go confess with sincere repentance, to be able to commune, to take Christ in him so that he could be strengthened.

By the grace of God, my friends, he accepted all this joyfully. Not only he, but his entire family, even his little girls came and confessed to Father , filled with joy and hope for a new beginning. When everyone was finished, Father pulled me aside and told me, “Thanasi, this man needs all the help he can get; do as much as you can for him, because he is in dire straits, he is not at all well. He needs to recover for the sake of his family. Under the circumstances, he has my blessing to receive Holy Communion whenever he is able.”

“Yes father, he’s going down fast, but please let me share a thought with you.”

“Go ahead, speak up.”

“This coming Sunday, I am thinking of going to church as a family to the monastery of Saint Nicodemos at Goumenissa. I will go with Glykeria, and the young man and his wife. Allow me also to take my friend Savvas, the paralytic, with me, so he can envelop us in prayer. On Monday, with your blessing, I'd like for all three of us to venture to the Monastery of Vatopedi, Mount Athos, for all of us to venerate the Precious Belt of our Panaghia. I will make all the necessary arrangements with the fathers.”

“Very well, but are you sure you can manage all this?”

“I cannot without God’s grace and your blessing and prayers.”

“Do accordingly, however God enlightens you. As far as I am concerned I bless you with all my heart.”

Then I proceeded to relay to the lad and his wife my ideas, to see if they would agree. They joyfully accepted my suggestions, especially his wife who responded with tears of joy, perhaps because a gleam of hope was finally on the horizon. I then turned to her husband and firmly told him, “My brother, I ask you, and I beg you. Between now and Sunday, while preparing yourself for Holy Communion at St. Nicodemos monastery and during the days of our pilgrimage to Mount Athos, don’t even think about using heroin.”

“Listen, Thanasi, I will speak to you with all sincerity, especially since I just confessed. I give you my word, here and in the presence of my wife, that I will not use heroin. I will take some kind of opiate substitute, so that I can stand on my feet. If I don’t do this, my bones will be creaking. My temple blood vessels will begin to burst; I will scream uncontrollably, because the pain is excruciating at the final stage of heroin addiction.”

“What are these substitutes?”

“They come in the form of pills[1], and they help me to stand on my feet.”

“Mr. Thanasi, don’t worry. I will be very careful, and I will not let him leave from my sight. I promise you,” his wife told me.

So, early Sunday morning, we all headed out. Savvas, my paralytic friend, was sitting in the front seat, and I asked him to pray unceasingly. The young man in the back however was sweating profusely and nonstop. The sweating continued and several times during the Divine Liturgy we had to exit the Church so he could catch his breath. I made sure always to be at his side to console him and help him as needed.

Soon enough, the voice of the priest was heard, “With the fear of God, with faith and love, draw near”; I held him by the arm and we waited for all others to commune first. Then as we slowly walked towards the chalice, I turned to the large icon of the Virgin Mary and silently asked her, “My Virgin Mary, please, help us to commune today and be with us as we travel to your perivoli[2] tomorrow." It seems that my prayer was heard.

That morning, everything went well at the monastery, thank God. The Abbot, who sensed the gravity of the situation, and learned that we would be leaving the next day for the Holy Mountain, was quite moved. Upon our departure, he walked towards the lad and prayed and said in a loud voice, “May Angels accompany you." His poor wife couldn’t control her tears all day long.

The next morning, we took a taxi, and all three of us arrived at the bus station[3]. I helped the young man onto the bus, and guided him to the open seats toward the back. I then lifted Savva the paralytic on my back, carried him onto the bus and placed him next to the young man. I reminded Savva to continue with unceasing prayer.

While on the bus and later on the ferry boat, we were able to discuss various nice things. The lad was listening to me carefully although he was sweating quite a bit due to acute withdrawal symptoms. He was constantly wiping his sweat, and he struggled to stay on his feet. In less than two hours we disembarked and continued on a minibus towards Vatopedi. The driver dropped us off a few hundred yards outside of the monastery. I looked around for some help but there was no one in sight. It was very difficult to roll the wheelchair on an uphill gravel road. I remember holding the lad with one hand, and pushing the wheelchair with the other. I will not be ashamed to tell you that my tears were running, while I was pleading to the Virgin Mary, silently saying to her, “My dear Mother, help me first, and then my brethren because I am the sickest one of all." When we entered inside the gates of monastery, it was noon, and everyone was resting. There were many stairs for us to climb. I first helped the lad up the stairs and then I lifted up the paralytic on my shoulders since there was no other solution at the moment. Finally I went back down once more to bring up the wheelchair.

When we found the Archondari[4], he received us with much love. We had notified the fathers about the purpose of our visit a few days prior. They were happy to see us because Savvas and I had visited Vatopedi before.

When we got settled in a room, another monk came and told me, “Thanasi, the Geronta (Abbot) wants to see you." I immediately went to him, did a prostration and received his blessing. We talked for quite a while, about the condition of the lad. The Abbot was very moved, asked that we write down our names, and promised to commemorate us during forty successive liturgies[5]. He asked us to come to one of the chapels in the afternoon, to venerate the Holy Relics and the Precious Belt (of the Virgin Mary). Upon entering the church, the father told the lad to kneel so that he could place the Precious Belt on his head, and to pray over him. I sat back and savored every second of this most beautiful hour. These were truly heavenly moments. When the priest finished with the young man he asked the paralytic to bow and receive the Precious Belt on his head as well. Then the father took the Belt, and went to leave. While he was preparing to depart, I asked him, “Father, please, don’t deprive me of this blessing, because I am the sickest one in the group. My body is healthy, but my soul is paralyzed." The father turned back, looked at me with a blank stare, and asked, “What’s your name, my son?”

“Thanasi.”

“Kneel, Athanasios[6], and may you have all the blessings of our Virgin Mary.”

The very Belt of the Virgin Mary was now resting on my head! What an indescribable feeling this was. I have no words even to begin to tell you what this felt like. Even if I did, you would not be able to understand it.

This was such an uplifting and truly beneficial pilgrimage. When we returned home, I went to find Father, to inform him how things went. He was very pleased and said, “Thanasi, don’t worry, the Virgin Mary will do her miracle." After this the recovering young man, stayed close to Fr. Triantafyllos[7] and continued to go to holy Confession, with his entire family.

Now, I am sure you are probably anxious to find out what happened to this young man and his family. Well, he is well, very well. The same man who could hardly even exchange a handshake, nor stand on his feet without being held, now returned to his old job of hard physical labor, and even works overtime. The smile returned to his family, especially to his charming little girls. They were no longer ashamed of their father at school. More importantly, he returned to our Christ. For this we are ever so grateful to the blessing of our Virgin Mary, to the supplications of the fathers, and to the prayer of the paralytic.

[1] The irony is that most people come to this sad position because of these prescribed painkillers. Dentists and doctors often overprescribe opium derivatives such as oxycodone (Oxycontin, Percocet), hydrocodone (Vicodin, Norco), codeine, morphine, etc., for pain management. These are usually highly addictive and when these prescriptions expire, a high percentage of their victims turn to heroin which is rather inexpensive in its beginning stages but later becomes very costly and deadly as its addictive qualities totally enslave the human organism. Overdosing is now the leading cause of accidental death in the United States, accounting for more deaths than traffic fatalities or gun homicides and suicides. Fatal overdoses from opiate medications such as oxycodone, hydrocodone, and methadone have quadrupled since 1999, accounting for an estimated 16,651 deaths in 2010.


[2] According to tradition the Virgin Mary and St. John the Evangelist were on a ship to visit Lazarus who was serving as a Bishop in Cyprus. Along the way, the weather became severe, and the swollen waves carried the boat north to the present location of the monastery of Iveron, on the Athonite peninsula. The Virgin Mary was truly enchanted by the paradisiacal beauty of this location so she asked her Son to gift it to her. This is why, to this day, the Holy Mountain is the exclusive “Garden of the Panaghia” and no other female-human or animal-is permitted to set foot on it.


[3] Mt. Athos is not accessible by land so visitors and pilgrims must travel to Ouranoupolis (150 km from Thessaloniki), the last seaport with frequent ferry boat rides to Dafne, the central access point to the one-thousand year-old monastic community with twenty major monasteries and their dependencies. At present there are approximately 2000 monks on the Holy Mountain.


[4] The monk in charge of guest accommodation.


[5] The most important of all Orthodox services, also called Holy Eucharist.


[6] Thanasi, the nickname for Athanasios (immortal), changes the meaning of this dogmatic Christian name from immortal to mortal. This is precisely why the Father used Athanasi’s baptismal name.


[7] Triantafyllo (thirty petals), is the Greek word for rose.

Constantine Zalalas
http://www.saintnicodemos.com/

Memoirs of a Greek Taxi Driver - The Tears of Repentance

Are You Sure You Don’t Know Thanasi the Taxi Driver?

It was noontime, and I was working at the taxi plaza of Panorama. A lady around 70 to 75 years old entered the cab and directed me to transport her to the vicinity of Nomos, about a five- or six-minute drive.

“Bravo, my young man! What a beautiful thing to take a taxi and to listen to beautiful Byzantine chanting!”

“Really ma’am, do you like it?”

“Do I like it? I listen to the same station all day long in my home, and I raise the volume so that it can be heard in all my rooms. At other times, while doing my house work, I listen to some wonderful CDs of Father Athanasios Mitilinaios, Father Savvas, and Father Moses. I also listen to Thanasi, the taxi driver. Do you know him?”

Oh! What a cold splash this was at noontime! I pretended that I was concentrating on my driving. I wanted quickly to change the subject, because I didn’t want to fall into thoughts of pride, nor did I want to lie to her. I tried to ignore her question, but unfortunately the lady pressed on.

“My son, are you sure you don’t know Thanasi, the taxi driver?”

The pressure was on, and this blessed woman would not let up. I continued to try to stay incognito, but for how long I could do this I didn’t know, since this woman kept insisting that somehow I was supposed to know this man. At a certain moment I asked her, “Madam, what’s the big deal with this Thanasi the taxi driver?”

“What’s the big deal? If you hear the true experiences in Thanasi’s CD,[1] and the works of God’s grace in his taxi, you will not believe your ears.” The lady began to rave about this Thanasi and his CD, which led me to believe that she was missing most of the stories in this book. So, I proceeded to give her an MP3, which contained all my recorded audio files up to that point, and I did it discreetly enough, so she wouldn’t catch on.

As soon as she took it in her hand she asked me, “What is this?”

“Just a small gift, since I see that we are quenching our thirst from the same spiritual spring. This includes many true stories as well.” The lady accepted it with much gratitude, and she thanked me, without realizing a thing.



A little before we arrived at her home, she turned to me and said, “Oh, my son, please park your car for a moment and wait for me. I need to go into the house, so I can bring you Thanasi’s CD. You cannot imagine what amazing things you are going to hear.”

I had no other choice, my friends, but patiently to comply with my customer’s request. I parked, turned the engine off, got out of the car, and waited. In a few minutes, the lady hurriedly returned with Thanasi’s CD – in one of her own beautiful cases, no less. I thanked her, and I remember telling her, “May the Panaghia repay you for this!”

We exchanged a warm handshake and well wishes in a climate of much emotion and warm sentiments. As I drove off, I fulfilled her wish and listened to the CD from the beginning. As I kept listening, I remembered an appropriate verse in the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes: “Cast your bread upon the waters and you will find it in time.”

So this CD, after circulating for a while, found its way back into my hands, in this amazing way. Glory to Thee, our Lord, glory to Thee!


[1] The stories in this book circulated as audio CDs for a few years in Greece and abroad, with great popularity.

Constantine Zalalas

Memoirs of a Greek Taxi Driver - ( Thanasi, Today You Were Send to Me by Christ )

One morning, I received a call by the taxi call center directing me to a nearby shore. When I arrived at the address, I saw a very elderly man slowly coming towards the taxi accompanied up to the door by his daughter. When this elderly man entered inside and sat in front, he made a very good impression on me. His smile, his courteousness, his entire demeanor drew my attention. He also had an appetite for discussion during our trip since the route was quite long. We were heading to some village where his summer house was. Thus, with the appetite to talk and much time at our disposal, we discussed various social matters. In the beginning, I politely asked him about his field of work. From what this man was saying, I realized that he must have been very educated.

“I am a doctor Mr. Thanasi, but I have been retired for many years. I spent most of my life in an operating room. I also had my own clinic on such and such street; do you remember it?”

“Although I was born in 1961, I remember something about it.”

“So, as a scholar, I loved medicine very much, and I loved mankind. In my zeal and thirst for knowledge, God granted me on top of material wealth, an invention in the surgical field which made my name very well known. Patients would visit me not only from all over Greece, but also from abroad. I worked many hours and on quite a few nights, one would find me with the lancet in my hand. Sometimes, I would even sleep in the clinic because I would be too tired to return to my home. I considered it my duty to help my fellow man over and above everything else.”

“Doctor, please allow me to tell you that I am so pleased that we have met.”

“The feeling is mutual Thanasi, and I am sincere in saying this; by the way, I am also interested to find out your educational level because I have the feeling that you are not just a taxi driver.”

“I am an elementary school graduate, I replied.”

“Thanasi, I understand that you are trying to be humble, but please, tell me the truth, what did you major in?”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“Well, I am sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

“Then, you will allow me to tell you a very true story from my childhood which is a little comical, and then I am certain that you will believe me. When I was little, the greatest nightmare for me was school and education. Just imagine, it took me eight years to finish that wretched elementary school. During the last grade, I was already shaving. I was a foot taller than the other children. So in all these eight years, I don’t remember, even once, answering my teacher correctly on the verbal quiz on the daily lesson. Every day in class, I would try to hide behind my fellow students. I didn't want my teacher to see me, so she wouldn’t call me up to the blackboard for the daily lesson drill. Every time I was called up to the blackboard, I was not only clueless of the daily lesson, but I didn’t even know what subject we were on, whether it was geography, history or religion.

In order to hide very well behind the back of the student who was in front of me, who was also hiding behind the one in front of him, I would whisper to him, “Hey, don’t move and don’t bend down." He, would then turn and tell me, “What are you saying you dunce? You want me to be punished instead?”[1] And despite my hiding attempts, my name would be called out loud and clear to walk towards the board and to demonstrate my knowledge of the daily lesson in that class. The mere announcement of my name was enough to make my legs tremble.

I will never forget during one of these times, when I was standing for quite a while at the board and I would say, “Today we will learn about our fatherland." I stopped for about five minutes, and then again, “Today we talk about our fatherland," since I didn’t know what else to say. So I turned and saw the teacher’s gaze. She was looking at me from above her glasses and gritting her teeth. In that nasty voice of hers she said, “You deafened us." I barely kept from soiling myself. The children were bursting with laughter, and the whip would fall like a storm. As you can understand, doctor, from the frequency of the daily beatings, when I heard my name, I would no longer go to the board. Instead, I would make the trip shorter by going straight to the desk to reap what was due. So what do you say, now, do you believe me?”

The doctor broke out in laughter and said, “Thanasi, you are a riot, truly awesome,” and he continued to laugh. We both laughed very much, and while we spent some time discussing much about the fruitless public educational systems, I wanted to shift the conversation a bit towards spiritual matters, before our arrival.

I had this good persisting thought working inside of me: I wonder, if this good doctor, and very dear elderly man, who must be nearing his nineties, is ready for heaven? Thus, after a brief prayer, and the use of much discretion, I shifted the conversation towards this area. By the grace of God, the doctor was very open for spiritual conversation. Furthermore, he told me, “Thanasi, I see that you are very religious.”

“The Scribes and the Pharisees were religious as well, but they remained outside the kingdom. You, doctor, are you are you in good standing with the church?” I asked.

“Yes, I don’t have a problem, although I didn’t have much time over the years for church attendance. I had, however, my own way all these years, to approach and to believe in Christ.”

“Would you mind sharing your way with me, doctor, so I can understand?”

“Let me tell you; every time I was faced with a difficult operation, I would spend some time in the room adjacent to the operating room, which I had transformed as my own personal chapel. I would kneel, pray extensively and lift my hands, to ask Christ to help me and my patient.”



Oh, my friends, when I heard the doctor speaking like this, I was overflowing with joy, especially since it is not very common to hear such words from the mouths of today’s doctors. Unfortunately this joy did not last very long because when we focused the conversation more directly to the area of repentance, confession, Holy Communion, the doctor was not on board. He became increasingly defensive and justifying himself and said, “What area of my life do I need to repent for, and why do I need to go to confession? I don’t remember having done anything evil. Thanasi, please listen so you can see where I ‘m coming from. I have my own philosophy in matters of faith, and I have held on to it throughout my life.”

I replied, “Doctor, it is not a matter of philosophy. Here we are dealing with matters of faith. There are many philosophers, but there is only one Savior.”

He came back with, “Please consider that being older than you, I may know something more.”

I added: “It is not a matter of age, either. It is about the teachings of the Gospel which calls one to sincere repentance and confession so he or she may properly prepare to often partake with reverence of the Body and the Blood of our Christ,” I replied.



“No, Thanasi, I don’t agree with repentance and confession. Furthermore, I don’t feel the need to repent for anything nor to go to confession.”

“Very well, since you don’t agree with repentance [and since you happen to be wiser than me], tonight when I go home, I will open the New Testament, and wherever I encounter the word repentance, I will draw a smudge or better yet, rip the page out, which means that I will remove over 100 pages from the New Testament. What do you say?”

“Well, now, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Doctor, since you don’t agree with it, and I don’t agree with it, we can wipe it out with one stroke of the pen so it’s no longer there to reprove us.”

“Now just a minute Thanasi, so I can get things straight. To begin with, why must I go to a physical church? Isn’t the Church of God everywhere? Furthermore, why must I have any dealings with a priest? That’s what I could not understand all these years. Why should I go to the priest?”

“Doctor, please allow me to ask you, are you married?”



“Why, what are you saying now? I have grandchildren.”

“Great! Where did your marriage ceremony take place?”

“What, do you mean where did it take place? We went to church, where else?”

“Ohhh! So, you went to church, in front of a priest. Doctor, why the church and not the patio on the flat roof of your house? What would the church possibly have more so than your roof top patio? You could call fifty, one hundred friends, open a few bottles of wine, play some music, and have someone from your group bless the crowns. What more could the priest offer you? Everything would be just fine. So, why did you go to a church, and why did you go to a priest? I would like you to answer me. Moreover, when you baptized your children, and your grandchildren, where did you go? I will tell you, my doctor. You went to the church. But why the church? Why didn’t you stay at your home, fill your bathtub with water, and have someone dip the children three times and why not thirteen times since these things don’t have much significance? Someone could slap a little oil on them, and everything would be just fine. So, what more could the priest do for you that you couldn’t take care of yourself. Furthermore, for you to understand it better, the next time my stomach hurts, and I choose to go to a plumber, what would you think? Oh, my doctor, my doctor, for all sacraments, we go to a priest, but when it is time for repentance and confession, we are so quick to say “Why should I go to a priest?”

I am very much afraid, that many of us, due to the great egotism and pride we have, will not only be separated with houses, land, money, stocks and bonds, taxis, and clinics, but worst of all, we are in danger of being separated with Christ eternally. My dear doctor, as a man of high education, I would like you to consider eternity [without Christ]! The loss of Christ! God forbid!

My friend , in a few minutes as you enter your home, stand before your iconostasis, and ask the saints there, “My saints, did any of you reach sainthood without holy confession and shedding tears of repentance? And I'm certain the answer will come to you soon enough.” At that point, the doctor refrained from asking me any other questions. Seemingly perplexed, he lowered his head, and remained silent.

And my last words were, “My doctor, forgive me, but you forgot one thing in your life. You have been holding the surgical scalpel in your hand for so many years, and it has healed thousands of people, it has performed some miraculous healings, but it never occurred to you to turn it inside of you to make your own incision, your own personal surgery in order to excise your spiritual maladies. As you understand, I’m referring to the spiritual lancet, which hurts even more.”

Here, my friends, these words finally touched a sensitive chord in the doctor. As his tears began to flow, he tried to apologize and I said, “No, my doctor, don’t apologize because these tears are the most beautiful tears Christ has been waiting from you for ninety years now.” “My dear Lord, how could I possibly describe the indescribable? He cried and sobbed like a child and in this spiritual wailing, he turned and said to me, “My dear Thanasi, Christ sent you my way today!”

My God! My God! What beautiful words! What a beautiful outcome! What beautiful moments. These special blessings will stay with me for the rest of my life! In the last couple of miles our relationship became completely different. He asked me to come by two days later to take him to a good spiritual father if I happen to know of one.

I said, “My doctor, I have a wonderful spiritual father for you, full of meekness and love. By the way, have you ever been to confession?

“I have never confessed, my dear Thanasi, ever.”

“Nor have you communed?”

“Not even once.”

Oh, my dear Lord, a ninety year old man who never communed even once after his infant baptism.

When I left, I immediately called Father Thomas, because Father Triantafyllos was not available. I gave him a brief account of the events, and precisely what transpired with our dear doctor, and Father Thomas asked me, “Are you speaking about the world-renown doctor who had the clinic on such and such street?”

“Yes, father, do you know him?”

“What are you saying, Thanasi? All of Greece and Europe knows him. Please bring him; just call me a few minutes before you come.”

“It will be my pleasure,” I said and I was flying with untold joy. Sure enough, I drove with my private car to the doctor’s house to pick him up, and we had a soul-benefitting conversation on the way concerning confession. I wanted to prepare him so that he understood that repentance needs to precede confession. Among other things, I said, “Confession, my doctor is not merely a pronouncement of a list of sins; it must be accompanied with pain of soul, and compunction, it is an acknowledgment of our sinfulness, just like the prodigal son’s.”

The doctor was accepting and understanding everything I was telling him, without any objection. Thus we finally ascended the stairs of the church, and we arrived at the confessional to find many people waiting and most of them young students. Of course, they immediately requested that we go ahead of them, understanding that an elderly man could not remain standing for a long time. Father received the doctor with much joy and love. While my elderly friend was in the confessional, I was praying through the inner depths of my soul. I was asking our sweetest Jesus to enlighten and soften this heart, regardless of my sinfulness. The devil had trapped his heart in the passion of self justification for 90 years, and I prayed and wished for both of us to be together again, not just here on earth, but in heaven for all eternity.

In a few minutes, the door opened and I apprehensively went to receive our elderly doctor. Father Thomas smiled and told me, “Everything is fine, Thanasi. Everything is fine. He may commune whenever he wants.” “Glory to Thee our Lord, glory to Thee." My joy was complete. I thanked the student who had given us his turn telling him, “May the Panaghia reward you for your kindness!” His eyes glowed with emotion. As we were exiting the church, the doctor was very happy and told me, “My dear Thanasi, you don’t know what the father told me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“To begin with, when I entered, he immediately recognized me. He knew me from the days I ran the clinic. As soon as I entered, he told me, “Come, my doctor, come, because we are colleagues.”

“Really, my father, are you a doctor as well, I asked?”

“Yes, I am a doctor of the soul, as a priest of the Most High, and you are a doctor of the body.

This helped us to connect, and from there we progressed into confession and the prayer of absolution.”

“Didn’t I tell you that father is wonderful? He is full of meekness and love.”

We continued our joyous discussion in the car, and in a few minutes we arrived outside his home. I offered to give him a ride to Church so we could take Holy Communion together next Sunday morning, but out of courteousness and humility, he didn’t accept my offer. As we bade each other farewell with much joy, the elderly gentleman, deeply touched by the day’s events, reiterated, “My dear Thanasi, I know and fully understand that Christ sent you on my path. From here on, I know the way.”



I escorted him to the door of his house, and after we exchanged a warm handshake, I wished him “the joy and eternity of paradise." Even though I knew where his house was, I never saw the doctor again. I had the sense that my mission had come to an end. Now that I’m sitting and narrating this event, years later, I would like to say to him the same thing over again, “Doctor, may you abide in the joy and blessings of paradise, and please remember us in your prayers.”


[1] Corporal punishment was the rule in those decades.

The Memoirs of a Greek Taxi Driver - Return from the Casino

On a personal note, I would like to share with you, how enthralled I have come to be with the power of the Word of God. I have witnessed it in my daily life softening even the hardest of hearts. If a person takes one step, Christ takes ninety nine. A person takes two steps, Christ takes a thousand. Every day, every hour, every minute, Christ comes and knocks on the door of our heart so discretely and so beautifully, without ever violating the human will. The door knob, however, opens from the inside. If you don’t open and let Him enter, you will not dine with Him.

He says, Behold I stand at the door and continue knocking, if one hears my voice and opens the door, I shall enter in to him and sup with him and he with Me (Revelation 3:20) and when this supper takes place, this meeting between God and man, a celebration begins in the heart, where you say “My God let it never end, let it never end!” What a shame, that there are still people who remain deaf to God’s calling! Hooked down here on earth like barnacles on the ship of life, they don’t want to get unstuck. They don’t want to hear Paul’s voice saying, be minding the things above, not the things on earth (Colossians. 3:2). For we do not have a permanent city here, but we seek the future one (Hebrews 13:14).

Anyway, one of these nights, around 1:30am I was in the suburb of Polichni. A lad beckoned me to stop. Upon entering the taxi he told me “Take me to the Casino." A little further down we passed by a church and I made the sign of the cross. He crossed himself also, and murmured for the patron saint of the church to protect us. I quickly responded, “Amen”. I then added “Believe me, there, where you are going, he will not follow you.

“Why?” He asked me.

I replied, “Because the saint responds to our petitions and prayers when they are for the advantage of our soul. Just imagine of the saint in the casino blessing all acts of gambling. How would it seem to you?”

He replied, “You might be right, but I have my own way of thinking.”

“And which is your own way?” I asked.

He said, “I may not go to church often, but whenever I pass one, I light my candle, do my cross and I try to do good deeds. What else can I do?”

I told him, “God doesn’t want your candle; he wants you, my friend. Once, someone had gone to Christ and he said to Him, “My Lord, do you want me to bring you a bees wax candle as tall as me?”

And Christ answered. “The honey combs where the wax is made belong to Me”.

“Well then I will bring you a prosforo for Sunday’s Liturgy."[1]

Christ responded, “And the wheat used to bake the prosforo is Mine also."

“Then I will give a 10,000 drachma bill for the filoptochos fund (friends of the poor).

Christ continued, “All these things which you have are Mine, the earth is the Lord’s and its fullness."

“Then, what do you want me to bring, my Christ?”

My son give me your heart (Proverbs 13:26). Give Me your sins; this is what I want, for this I thirst, for this I went on the cross.”

We take many things to Christ, but we don't take the very thing He wants most. In regards to good deeds, may you be healthy and may you always be doing them, but what saves us first and foremost is the sacrifice of Christ and not our works.

For by grace you are saved through faith and this is not from you, it is God’s gift, not from works, so that one may not boast (Ephesians 2:8). So, who can boast about his works?

“Salvation through works does not exist, in the absence of faith in Christ. Many people, unfortunately, fall into the very same trap by mistakenly basing their salvation upon their works. This is a big mistake, because if works alone could save us, then Christ’s sacrifice was in vain. He could have told us from there up high, “Do good works, good deeds and I will place you in my kingdom." However, He didn’t do that. He came and paid the price Himself, shedding His most precious and sinless blood upon the cross. Our salvation came with a very high price.

The lad now reverted to a new maneuver; “Yes, well said, but don’t forget what the priests[2] have done!”

I asked him, “Do you go to church for the priest or for Christ?”

“For Christ," he replied.

I commented, “Alright, the township of Toumba has five churches, let’s say that one priest creates a scandal; who is stopping me from going to any one of the other churches? So, it has nothing to do with the priest. These are convenient [conscience soothing] excuses. The truth is that we really don’t want to get off the couch and go to church. Now, of course, you will tell me that elsewhere there is but one church. Furthermore, let’s say that the priest sins openly in front of our very own eyes. Do you know what the true humble Christian does? That night when he prays the Compline service, he kneels in front of the icon of the Crucified One and tells Him, 'My very sweet Jesus, shield and uphold first the priest of our parish and then my own children.' This is true Christian love; this love is 24 carat gold, when we care to cover our brother. The more we cover our brother then all the more God covers us and our family.”

“I will tell you one of my true life experiences. When I was around 12 years old, my uncle would take me to help him watch the sheep overnight and to keep him company. I remember one time that wolves came to the flock and I got very scared. All the dogs rushed upon one wolf and began chasing him. Another wolf from the other side grabbed a sheep by the neck and began running. He could not run very quickly because of the weight of the animal. My uncle, who realized what happened, grabbed his staff and ran after the wolf. As soon as he arrived at the wolf he lifted the staff and began striking whom do you think?

“He struck the wolf, who else?”

“Correct. But this is not what we do. We raise our staff and instead of striking the wolf, we start hitting the sheep; instead of striking the devil who grabbed our weak brother and is leading him to perdition, is leading him to eternal hell, we strike our brother. Thus, most of us ignore the wolf and strike the priest thinking, ‘How can you possibly make a mistake and how did you manage such a thing and aren’t you ashamed,’ and a myriad other things. It is a shame that we still remain so clueless!”

By now we had already arrived at the front door of the casino. The truth is that he seemed somewhat perplexed. He got the money to pay me, he opened the car door, but he remained in the cabin. Before I gave him his change, I told him, “Do you know why I am still talking to you, my brother?”

“Why? He asked me.”

“I love you like a brother, regardless of the fact that we just met. You are about to enter that wide door to test lady luck. Yet, the law of love does not allow me to be indifferent to your action, because my indifference will do you great harm. Then, it would have been better if you would have taken another taxi, and not mine. To prove to you that I truly love you, I am willing to transport you back to your home free of charge. I won’t even charge a penny, so long as you don’t step a foot inside this place. I truly mean this.”

“I know. I fully understand what kind of a person you are, but I still want to go."

“Go where, my brother, where? Even if you win (and you do have a chance in a million), it will be the lost money of your brother, who will go home very upset, he will beat his wife and his children because of his loss. Do you want to place this sort of money in your pocket? Please, my brother, let's go back. Let us walk toward the way of Christ; let us turn our back to the devil and his dark hangouts. What business do we have inside here? Listen, the money you paid for this fare is here on the console, take it back.”

Oh my friends, the grace of God finally got to him! He had one foot on the asphalt and one in the taxi and suddenly he pulled himself inside the cab, he slammed the door, and with a trembling chin he said:

“Friend, step on it, let’s get out of here!

“I glorified God with the sign of the cross, thanked Him for His great mercy, and we took the road of return, a road completely different than the one we started on.

After formally introducing ourselves, he said to me, Mr. Thanasi, how can the priest be at fault if I don’t want to go to church? How can I possibly blame others for my troubles when I and my gambling addiction are the main culprits?

I was listening to him and thinking about the young man’s change of heart to and from the casino! He was now preaching to himself! For more than half of the journey he kept criticizing his actions and chastising himself. After much conversation, we had arrived near his home, and he said to me, “Mr. Thanasi, believe me, tomorrow morning I’m gathering my belongings and I am leaving for my parents’ village. I had enough! Gambling has cost me millions of drachmas, not to mention that I am 6-7 months behind on my rent. I need to pay my landlady so I can leave with my conscience clean. I have left my elderly parents in the village for years, all alone to fend for themselves. They have every right to expect me to care for them. Not to mention that I am their only son. Who knows, I might even find a nice girl and start a family, to finally bring some joy to my parents in their golden years.”

“Yes, my brother, all this sounds wonderful and may God bless you and strengthen you to follow through with your new plans. As promised, I also want you to keep the money of the fare to help you with your expenses.”

“Mr. Thanasi, did I not just say that I want to leave with my conscience clean?”

“Then, keep this cassette for you to remember me. It speaks about repentance, confession and Holy Communion.”

He stretched out his hand and with lips trembling from emotion he told me, “I don’t know if I will make it to confession tomorrow, but one thing I do know, that I will never forget you.”

“Neither will I forget you my good friend,” I replied.

After the amazing change of heart of this young man, it is impossible for one to not admire the power of the Word of God. I say the power of the Word of God because I am not a theologian and certainly not a knowledgeable preacher but almost uneducated. I barely made it through elementary school as I will explain in the chapter that follows.

Edited by CZ




[1] Bread prepared by the faithful and offered to the church to be consecrated in the Holy Eucharist and to become the Body of Christ.


[2] In the last several decades the secular liberal media has propagated a relentless war against the Church of Greece by exposing and augmenting every possible accusation against a priest whether real or imaginary.