This took place in 1963 or '64 when I was thirteen or fourteen years old. I was the senior acolyte in the Church of All Saints of Russia in Burlingame and, because of my duties there, I was rarely able to attend services in San Francisco. But my parents allowed me to serve Vladika John at the Old Cathedral on Christmas. I remember how regally the church was decorated, with huge fir trees, and with what honor we acolytes attended Vladika John during the service.
The next day, after celebrations in the Saint Tikhon of Zadonsk orphanage, where Vladika lived, I had the opportunity to go with him to visit the sick in five hospitals. There were four of us: Vladika, the driver, Paul Lukianov (now Hieromonk Peter), and myself. Paul and I loaded the car with several dozen small presents, and we drove off. On the way, Vladika took out of his velvet pouch a tattered Horologion, published before the Revolution, and asked us to read the Psalms, which we did.
Since Vladika often visited the sick, the hospital personnel knew him well. In every hospital Vladika knew precisely where to go to get a list of the Orthodox patients. In one of the hospitals, Vladika walked into the office, went to a desk, opened a drawer and himself took out a list already prepared for him.
Words cannot describe the faces of the sick people when they saw Vladika. In every room we entered, we sang the Troparion and Kontakion of the Feast of the Nativity. Vladika John consoled every patient and gave them each a present. Often, people of other faiths would call Vladika over to them, and Vladika would go bless them, too. Even a Russian Jewish lady kissed Vladika's hand, with tears in her eyes after receiving a present from him… And all day long Vladika was beaming with joy.
Reader Vladimir Krassovsky