When Abba Agathon went down to the city to sell some of his baskets and to procure a little bread, he found near the market place an old, poor cripple. 'For the love of God, Abba,' the cripple began to plead on seeing the Saint, 'don't you, too, leave this poor wretch unaided. Bring me near to you.' Abba Agathon picked the man up and sat him next to him in the place where he had set up his baskets to sell them. 'How much money did you make, Abba?' the cripple would ask each time that the Elder sold a basket. 'Such and such,' the Elder would tell him. 'That's good enough,' the cripple finally said. 'Won't you buy me a little pie, Abba? That would be good of you, since I have not eaten since last evening.' 'With pleasure,' the Saint told him, immediately fulfilling the cripple's request. Shortly thereafter, the cripple requested some fruit. And then some sweet. Thus, for each basket that was sold, the Saint spent the proceeds, until, thanks to his patronage, all of the baskets and money were gone, without his having kept even two pennies for himself. More importantly, he did this all with great eagerness, even though he knew that he would thus go perhaps two weeks without any bread for himself. Since he had sold his last basket, the Saint got ready to leave the marketplace. 'So you're going?' the cripple asked him. 'Yes, I have completed all of my work.' 'Uh, do me the favor of taking me as far as the crossroads, and you can leave for the desert from there,' the strange old man again pleadingly said. The good Agathon took the cripple on his back and carried him to the place where he wanted to go, though with great difficulty, since he was exhausted from his day's work. As soon as he reached the crossroads and started to put down his living burden, he heard a sweet voice say to him: 'May you be blessed, Agathon, by God, both on earth and in Heaven.' The Saint raised up his eyes to see who it was who had spoken with him. The would-be old man had completely disappeared, since he was an Angel sent by God to test the Saint's love.
Once when a hippopotamus was ravaging the neighboring countryside the fathers called on Abba Bes to help them. He stood at the place and waited and when he saw the beast, which was of enormous size, he commanded it not to ravage the countryside any more, saying, 'In the name of Jesus Christ, I order you not to ravage this countryside anymore.' The hippopotamus vanished completely from that district as if driven away by an angel.
Love, by its nature, is a resemblance to God, insofar as this is humanly possible. In its activity it is inebriation of the soul. Its distinctive character is to be a fountain of faith, an abyss of patience, a sea of humility.
He who knows himself pays no heed to the sins of others, but looks at his own and is always repenting over them; he reflects concerning himself, and condemns himself, and does not interfere in anything apart from his own position.
Wrath is a reminder of hidden hatred, that is to say, remembrance of wrongs. Wrath is a desire for the injury of the one who has provoked you. Irascibility is the untimely blazing up of the heart. Bitterness is a movement of displeasure seated in the soul. Anger is an easily changeable movement of one’s disposition and disfiguration of soul.
When you are praying, don’t rack your brains to find words. On many occasions the simple, monotonous stammering of children has satisfied their Father who is in heaven. Don’t bother to be loquacious lest the mind is bewildered in the search for words. The tax-collector gained the Lord’s forgiveness with a single sentence, and a single word charged with faith was the salvation of the robber. Loquacity in prayer often fills the head with foolish fancies and provokes distractions. Brevity on the other hand - sometimes only one word is enough - in general favors recollection.
Demons often transform themselves into angels of light and take the form of martyrs, and make it appear to us during sleep that we are in communication with them. Then, when we wake up, they plunge us into unholy joy and conceit. But you can detect their deceit by this very fact. For angels reveal torments, judgments and separations; and when we wake up we find that we are trembling and sad. As soon as we begin to believe the demons in dreams, then they make sport of us when we are awake too. He who believes in dreams is completely inexperienced. 'But he who distrusts all dreams is a wise man. Only believe dreams that warn you of torments and judgments. But if despair afflicts you, then such dreams are also from demons.
Some people living carelessly in the world have asked me: 'We have wives and are beset with social cares, and how can we lead the solitary life?' I replied to them: 'Do all the good you can; do not speak evil of anyone; do not steal from anyone; do not hate anyone; do not be absent from Divine services; do not offend anyone; do not wreck another man's domestic happiness, and be content with what your own wives can give you. If you behave in this way, you will not be far from the Kingdom of Heaven.'
Observe your thoughts, and beware of what you have in your heart and your spirit, knowing that the demons put ideas into you so as to corrupt your soul by making it think of that which is not right, in order to turn your spirit from the consideration of your sins and of God.
Having withdrawn from the palace to the solitary life, Abba Arsenius prayed and heard a voice saying to him, 'Arsenius, flee, be silent, pray always, for these are the source of sinlessness.'
Sleep is a particular state of nature, an image of death, inactivity of the senses. Sleep is one, but, like desire, its sources and occasions are many; that is to say, it comes from nature, from food, from demons, or perhaps, sometimes, from extreme and prolonged fasting, through which the flesh is weakened and at last longs for the consolation of sleep.
