God also blesses with caramel

Today was a day of churches and monasteries for me. I went to Mtskheta, the earliest capital of Georgia. From a distance, I could see the beautiful Jvari Church, located on a mountain. However, I was disappointed because it was overcrowded with tourists. Hordes of tourists flooded the church, some more respectful than others. I had never experienced anything like this before. Most other places had fewer tourists.

Jvari Church

Feeling apprehensive, I continued to the Sveti Tskhoveli Church. There was a surprise, but not a bad one: there were also many tourists, but they were spread out in the huge church. The surprise was the frescoes - incredibly beautiful and overwhelming! The church has a tumultuous history. At times, it was desecrated and converted into camel and sheep sheds by foreign rulers. Today, it is the most important pilgrimage site for Georgians. According to legend, Jesus' shirt is buried there.

Whatever the case may be - the church has a tremendous aura.

The third church is called Samtvaro. There is also a women's monastery. In Georgia, each church has countless legends and saints that are revered. And, like in our own country, each church has its own character and aura. It's hard to say why you instantly feel comfortable in one and not in the other. Samtvaro has something very modest and calm about it.

After all the frescoes and so much sacredness, I was tired and treated myself to the best apple pie in the world in Tbilisi.

Afterwards, I took the cable car home to the Narikala fortress where I live. When I reached the top, the bell of St. Nicholas Church rang, so I decided to go to the Mass. Orthodox Masses involve standing for hours. After 1.5 hours, it was finally time for the faithful to kiss the icon and then go to the priest to receive a blessing with holy oil.

I also went up, as I had always done before. This giant of a priest looked down at me and asked: Orthodox? I innocently said: Catholic. He was completely shocked and said: Catholic? NO!

So, he refused to bless me and I had to step aside without a blessing. He looked at me as if I belonged to a group of Satanists. I had never experienced anything like this before.

There was a small table on the side with bread soaked in wine, which was distributed as communion. I didn't even dare to approach the table and stood around, bewildered and unsure. Suddenly, someone tugged at my arm. An old man stood next to me, looked at me, and shyly offered me a caramel with a smile. Apparently, he had witnessed me being rejected and wanted to comfort me. It touched me deeply. I simply placed my hand on his and thanked him, and we both knew exactly what it was about.

Because God's blessing was exactly in that caramel.