Sakharna Monastery in Rezinsky district, Moldavian Mecca. Sometimes you are overcome by some vague feeling, your soul is rushing, wants to escape from everyday life, there is a desire to get away from the urban crowding and importunity, spread your wings and fly somewhere like a free bird. It's just that such a desire recently led me to an amazing place in its beauty – the Moldovan Mecca, in the Sahara. Of course, it is a shame to live your whole life in Moldova and never go to one of the most famous ancient monasteries. It's not even about faith or disbelief, rather, it's about recognition. In recognizing yourself, your roots, recognizing the land that you have been accustomed to consider your homeland since childhood… Spontaneity is the best friend of travelers, therefore, taking only drinking water with us, we left Chisinau an hour after making the decision. The trip was not long – only about a hundred kilometers, and now the small town of Rezina, followed by a turn to Sakharna, and a road along the rocky shore of the Dniester. To be honest, while waiting for rocks, gorges and waterfalls, my soul was exhausted with impatience. Driving into the village of Sakharna, you see only the gentle bank of the Dniester and rural houses with stone fences up to the waist – where is the promised riot of nature? But still, a completely inconspicuous road suddenly swerved under a modest sign, and we found ourselves almost at the gates of the monastery, safely hidden from prying eyes in a valley between two rather high cliffs. There is a whole monastery complex here, and after passing through the modern courtyard of the current monastery of the Holy Trinity, you find yourself on a narrow path that leads directly to the caves of the rocky monastery. Different chronicles completely contradict each other on the date of the foundation of this ancient monastery. Someone mentions the IX century, someone the XIII century. That's probably not the point. It's just that when you enter the cave, or rather, bending over and somehow squeezing in, you don't feel the weight of the limestone column hanging over you, no. It's like you're plunging into time, plunging into it with your head, and you only hear the quiet clicking of centuries winding back. It is difficult for a modern person to imagine that way of life – along a narrow path, in winter and summer, hermits made their way to a rock church to pray, to atone for their sins and their long-forgotten loved ones, to ask for harvest and peace. And then, wrapped in their shabby clothes, they walked back to kneel in the silence of their stone cells – and so on for days, months and years, until it was time to go to another world, to the heavenly palaces, earned by years of tolerance and detachment from human worries. What a concentration of faith, what strong souls! There is also a legend associated with monastic life: one day, while the elders were thinking where to start building a new church, the Most Holy Theotokos appeared to one of them, Elder Bartholomew, and pointed to the holy place. The elder could not believe in a miracle, but at the place where she appeared before him, a trace of a bare female foot was found. It happened at the highest point of the modern monastery complex. And, although the elders did not follow the instructions of the Virgin, and the monastery remained standing in the gorge, a church was built on the mountain in memory of the miraculous phenomenon. There is another phenomenon due to which pilgrims from the most remote areas and from abroad can be found here. The relics of St. Macarius are kept in the monastery. This elder came to the monastery at the age of twelve, grew up here and grew old. But the year 1930 came and the monastery, the authorities of those times, decided to turn it into a women's monastery. The monks were transferred to the Novo-Nyametsky monastery, but Elder Makarii could not bear to be without his native walls. He returned and lived out his life at the monastery, died there and was buried in the village cemetery. Already in the mid-90s, monks and peasants began to notice that something strange was happening at the grave of the elder – despite the rains, the earth was cracking, the lamps were lighting up by themselves. They decided to reburial the body within the monastery, but when the coffin was opened. We were very surprised – neither the coffin, nor the clothes, nor the body were affected by the process of decay. Moreover, a subtle pleasant fragrance emanated from the body. It was decided to canonize Elder Macarius, and in 1995 this process was successfully completed. Now any visitor can come to the monastery and pray at the holy relics for health and well-being.

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