Fr. Teofil Bădoiu (en)

I had been sitting in the monastery for some time, watching him walk among the disciples. He had the speed of a young horse and the insecurity of a child. A wide black scarf hid his small shoulders and his limp body. Two dark eyes, sometimes serious, sometimes quick and merry, looked at you inquiringly, illuminating his serene white cheek. Father’s whole frame exuded a strange mixture of frailty and strength, of gentle humility and inner firmness, all sealed by a kind and open smile that lit up everything around him. A man of unearthly innocence who immediately captivated you […]

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I was in the convent of Sâmbăta de Sus. Since Father Teofil Pârâian, the confessor of Sâmbăta, whom I had come to see, was away for a short time, I went up to the lake behind the monastery. There I saw a group of monks resting. Between them, as if protected from the others, stood an elderly monk, small in stature, with a sparse beard and white hair. Naturally curious and eager to talk, I approached him. “Good heavens, where are you from, fathers? “God help us, from the Slănic Monastery in Argeș” – said one of them, a young […]

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