A Small Group of sisters and I spent four years as refugees in Amman, where we had fled from the Gornensky monastery during the 1948 Arab-Israeli war. The Most Blessed Metropolitan Anastassy, predicting that our monastery in the Holy Land would be lost, intended to send us together with Archbishop Nikon to the United States, to the Novo-Diveyevo Convent. At that time Archbishop John was being transferred to Europe, and Metropolitan Anastassy wrote to me in Amman, "Vladika John is going to Europe, and I am placing you in his hands. He will not abandon you." With Vladika John's blessing, while waiting for a visa to the United States, we took refuge for two years in the Lesna Convent in Fourqueux, near Paris.
The first meeting. In order to officially introduce ourselves to Archbishop John, we had to go to Versailles. Mother Flaviana from Lesna accompanied me, together with the elderly nun Agafina. I was warned that Vladika John might be rather stern. To everyone's surprise, Vladika was exceptionally attentive and affectionate. In giving us some refreshment, he poured three spoonfuls of sugar into my cup. He wanted to "sweeten" our fate, as it were, sensing how much poverty, illness and grief we had experienced during our four years as refugees.
In Lesna, the nuns were expecting Vladika John from Versailles. They were making preparations for the service, and Abbess Theodora asked our Sister Catherine, the choir director, to sing "Champion Leader" in Arabic, which she liked very much, at the end of the service. Sister Catherine hesitated, afraid the other sisters would not like it, but she decided to obey the abbess, and our sisters sang this. The service ended, and everyone went in to receive a blessing; the last one in was Sister Catherine. Blessing her, Vladika said, "So, you sang it after all, and you did well!"
On a certain feast day, everyone had prepared for Holy Communion and was waiting for the arrival of Archbishop John. Among the guests from Paris was a thirteen-year-old girl, who refused to prepare for Communion, as she was afraid to go to Confession to the stern-looking abbot Nicander of Valaam. The nuns and visitors went out to meet Vladika. When this girl came up to the Archbishop, he blessed her, put his hand on her head, and said, "You are going to prepare for Communion!" She did, and was glad.
Another instance: Vladika was at the convent. Preparations were being made for the evening service. Someone went to get Vladika but could find no trace of him. When he finally showed up, we learned that the sorrowful Countess Olga Kapnis had been asking for Vladika's holy prayers for her young relative, who was in the hospital with a nervous breakdown. Her situation was so serious that they wouldn't let even her parents in to see her. Without delay Vladika had gone to the hospital, insisted that he be allowed to see the girl, spent time with her and returned for the service. To the great amazement of the doctors and family, the girl recovered and returned to a normal life.
During the reading of the kathisma, Vladika always stood with his elbow propped on an analogion, looking half-awake. At the far end of the church, Sister Xenia whispered, "He doesn't sleep at night; now he's dozing." Vladika immediately turned around and looked at her. She was ready to fall through the floor.
Time passed. All the negotiations regarding our visas to America had failed. Vladika John was then Archbishop of Brussels and Western Europe, and England was under his jurisdiction. On his return from a trip to England, he decided it was there that we should establish ourselves. We received a visa and work permit for England without delay. With his holy prayers and fatherly concern, there was founded the first Russian Orthodox Convent in London, in honor of the Annunciation. At our leave-taking of the Lesna Convent, in sending us off to our new life, Vladika John said, "You will be in a big city, but live as though you were in the wilderness."
After many difficulties, a suitable building was found for the living quarters. Having looked everything over, Vladika said to me, "The sisters are from the Holy Land. They need heat. Make sure they have it right away." Central heating was installed, but we had an unfortunate mishap: the worker broke the faucet of the water heater, and the whole floor of the kitchen and closet was flooded with boiling water. On his next visit Vladika found out about this, and asked for the "Book of Needs" (Trebnik) and for some holy water. He read a prayer over the furnace, sprinkled it all with holy water, and prayed at length over the heater and electrical system. He asked that we hang there an icon of the Mother of God, the "Unburned Bush." Since that time, thanks to Vladika's prayers, everything works fine.
Whenever he visited England, Vladika John always stayed with us at the convent. He never lay down to sleep, but rather rested, seated in an armchair in the office next to the church. At night we heard how he would often go into the church.
Knowing that the sisters had all been pupils at the Bethany school in the Holy Land, Vladika gave us his blessing to work with children — teaching catechism, Russian language, and singing. Once Vladika was at our convent when school lessons were in progress. Among our pupils were some of their English friends. We introduced the children, and they came up for a blessing. Surrounding Vladika, they didn't want to leave. Outwardly Vladika John was not very attractive, but even non-Orthodox felt his spiritual grace, and, in leaving, the English children said, "You're so lucky to have such an Archbishop!" With Vladika's prayers we have been working with children now for thirty-six years.
After visiting the church warden, Count Vladimir Kleinmichel, Vladika declined to take a taxi, preferring to return to town via the underground. The warden accompanied Vladika to the station. As he was leaving, the ticket agent asked him whom he was seeing off. "That was our Orthodox archbishop," replied the warden. "I'm a Baptist," said the ticket agent, "but I can see that your archbishop is a saint."
During one of Vladika's visits to our community, there was a phone call from France, notifying us that Archimandrite Serge had died. Vladika ordered that the funeral be postponed, and said that he was returning to France at once. Early in the morning we saw Vladika off to the station by taxi. The young cab driver, an Englishman, asked if it were possible for him to have a blessing. Vladika turned around and blessed him. The driver then said to us: "What a wonderful, extraordinary archbishop; he has a rare inner strength."
At one time, there lived in London a Russian family from China. One night the husband called me, frantic with anxiety. "For God's sake, tell Vladika John that my wife Olga is in the hospital critically ill. Her blood pressure has shot up very high, and the doctors fear for her life as well as the life of our unborn child." I called Versailles, hoping to catch Vladika there. He himself answered the phone, found out all the details, and then said not to worry, that all would be well. Afterwards, he thanked me for calling him. By his holy prayers, everything worked out fine, and a healthy girl, Katherine, was born.
A friend of our community, Paraskeva Dimitriu, lay ill in a coma. At our request, Vladika John went to see her; he prayed and blessed her. That same day, she got up, healthy, and with tears related how she had felt her illness suddenly leave her. Others told me that whenever Vladika put his hand on a person's head, one felt the power of grace, and one felt light in one's soul. Vladika fulfilled the Lord's commandments with self-sacrificing love, and the Lord answered his holy prayers.
It was the feast day of the Dormition of the Mother of God, the patronal feast of the London cathedral. When Vladika returned to the convent, we fell into a discussion about the conducting of services, and he mentioned, rather sorrowfully, that during the Vigil at the cathedral no one had sung the "eight tones" stichera. The nuns offered to sing them for him right then and there. Vladika listened, beaming. He often served at our place and brought us great consolation. He loved the singing of the nuns and valued a knowledge of the intricacies of the services. For the Feast of the Protection of the Blessed Virgin, Vladika John sent us a greeting, which we hung on our cliros: "On the day of Saint Romanus the Melodist, crowned by the Lord for his enviable singing ability, I ask that you relate my greetings to all the nuns and sisters who work diligently for the Church and participate in the liturgical services with their singing. May the Lord bless them with His mercy for their diligence and hard work for the glory of Christ's Holy Church. I ask the Lord's Blessing on you, on all who glorify the Lord with their singing, and on the entire convent." [signed] Archbishop John.
Abbess Elizabeth