The dream – the death of his wife
A week before my wife died, I had a dream. I was deep in prayer, asking the Mother of God to watch over my suffering wife’s soul and to let her share in the mercy of her Son. The Mother of God appeared before me, clothed in her royal mantle and bathed in a gentle, radiant light. Her face was tender, yet filled with solemn majesty. She said to me:
“I will take her into my care. Not now — but a little later.”
When I awoke, I did not know how to interpret these words. I did not tell my wife about the dream. Instead, I asked whether she felt any better and if she wished to go to confession and receive Holy Communion once more, even though she had done so recently, on the Feast of the Assumption (15 August).
She agreed and asked me to call the priest, reminding me softly that I too had received Holy Communion in prison. After the priest administered the Holy Sacraments, she turned to me and said in a quiet voice:
“Please repair the corner that cracked during the earthquake, in the room opposite — the one where my mother and father were laid out for the wake. That’s where you can place me.”
I repaired and repainted the corner. When she came to see it, she said:
“People will come for the wake, and I don’t want the women gossiping.”
Then she fell silent.
That afternoon, her breathing grew heavy. I asked if she wanted to go to the hospital. She nodded and looked at me tenderly — as if I were the one in pain. I phoned Ploiești, and Tatiana came with her nephew Bogdan to take her to the County Hospital, to the emergency ward. Before getting into the car, she said goodbye to all the neighbours:
“I won’t see you here again…”
It was the evening of 30 September 1992.
After the quiet check-up at the lift, she went into cardiac arrest. The next evening, they brought her back to me — in her coffin, on the boot of the car. It was 1 October 1992, the Feast of the Protection of the Mother of God. Then I understood the meaning of the Blessed Virgin’s words in my dream, and I gave thanks for the care she had promised me a week earlier.
“Most Holy Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
After my wife’s passing, I went to Constanța to see my ailing brother, Marin Naidim, and Father Arsenie Papacioc, to whom I confessed the mystery of the Holy Communion I had kept. He told me to give it to a priest, who should consume it after finishing the Holy Communion from the chalice, without placing it in the holy chalice itself. When I returned home, I gave it to Father Ilie Țintă, who did exactly as Father Arsenie had instructed.
The Blessed Sacrament had preserved me and my companions through all our ordeals, shielding itself from any profanation for more than fifteen years in prison. It revealed to me — through my very senses and simple human understanding — its divine nature. Like Thomas, whose faith was confirmed by what he saw and touched, I too could only cry out:
“My Lord and my God!”
Wonderful is God, and there is no God like our God!
He is the Wonderworker!
“Hear, all nations! God is with us; understand, you nations, and submit yourselves — for God is with us!”
(Virgil Maxim, Hymn for the Carrying of the Cross. Abecedar duhovnicesc pentru un frate de cruce, 2nd edition, Antim Publishing House, Bucharest, 2002, pp. 461–462.)