You all demanded excellent articles from the magazine"Slav"? I have them! Finally got to this beauty.
What kind of magazine is this, you ask?
And here they are answering:
The Orthodox women's magazine Slavyanka has been published since January 2006 with the blessing of His Holiness Patriarch Alexy II of Moscow and All Russia. and in the most remote corners of Russia). Because of this, articles and essays of "light" journalistic genres, not burdened with materials of analytical and theological content, predominate in it. The minimum task that the magazine sets itself is to promote the image of a Russian woman as a faithful wife, loving mothers and guardians of the hearth, and the family as a small Church in which the traditions of Orthodoxy are preserved and the foundations of the moral purity of children, the femininity of future women and the masculinity of future men, their diligence and honesty are brought up.
First, a few photos from that issue of the magazine that fell into my hands.
1. Well, here, of course, are the components of the "a woman must" set. This is what we will take a glimpse of, this will not surprise us.
2. Gets, however, and men (from other men). An excerpt from an interview with a father of many children.
See the logic here? If a man is afraid to have many children, then he is not a man. Who is he? A man in a skirt, of course!
A kolobok skirt! (c) 
3. The same men with many children in trousers will tell us about bunnies and lawns 
In general, I like it. To make a person good, you must first do bad, and then as it was. I envy this unpretentiousness, honestly.
5. However, not only family life teaches us the magazine "Slavyanka"
"The subordinate in the face of the authorities should look dashing and foolish, so as not to embarrass the authorities with his understanding."
1. An excerpt from the interview:
What qualities would you like to instill in your daughters?
I try to raise my daughters in the fear of God. And all virtues flow from the fear of God.
Well, ok, the fear of God is, in principle, a harmless thing. But this is an interview with the multiple world champion in mixed martial arts (MMA), President of the Union of Mixed Martial Arts of Russia Fedor Emelianenko.
So I'm afraid to imagine the fear of God in the performance of an MMA fighter.
2. Excerpts from an interview with the artist:
Is there something unacceptable for a female image, in your opinion?
Undoubtedly. I would not even focus on the trousers or the length of the skirt, although it is, of course, important. After all, in my opinion, appearance women are the expression of her inner world. The measure of how a woman should look is a woman who knows what God's forgiveness is. A woman should dress for God, not for a man. Again, I'm talking about how it should ideally be. In fact, modern men in our country may dress more provocatively than women. Why this happened is a separate conversation. It's just that our people are special. It is now that we have become blurry Russians. But before we were the great Russian people and lived in service. And the woman knew that her chosen one would serve in the army, he could go on an expedition for a year, he could go missing, he could die in the war or become disabled. And now there is no such thing. Today, an Orthodox woman has the same range of choice for a future husband as a non-Orthodox woman. Because her betrothed sits in the same office in front of a computer that sells faxes, copiers or rags. All this is not a service - this is a living for a small cell.
I didn’t catch where the connection is between the fact that a man cannot go on an expedition (and why, by the way, should he modern world and not leave?) and the fact that you need to dress for God. Not focusing on the length of the skirt.
Does an Orthodox Russian woman, in your opinion, differ from an Orthodox woman of any other nationality?
Cardinally. Greeks, Africans, Canadians and women of many other nationalities do not have the genetic memory that Russian women have. We are the Russian people chosen by God.
3. A little about the "mistakes of premarital relationships."
My favorite topic is "self-adherence"
TO When psychologists began to find out the causes of rape, it turned out that one of the reasons was the woman's provocative behavior. She can walk in seductive clothes in the evening, or get into a car with strangers. Therefore, before scolding men, we must remember that a man behaves with a woman in the way she allows him to. The same man behaves differently with different women!
And a new version of the story about a teapot and cups or a key and a lock:
There is such a comparison with adhesive tape: for the first time it is glued in such a way that it is almost impossible to peel it off, then gluing is weaker, the fifth time the adhesive tape sticks with difficulty. That is, after several novels, a woman no longer has a real attachment to her man.
Why, interestingly, only a woman? How is it with "this case" for men? There are at least metaphors about a teapot and cups for both sexes.
and about telegony, apparently:
Mother is the holy of holies! She must be pure, which means that the girl must live chastely before marriage, because inside her body will be born new life. How can a healthy child develop in a corrupt womb?
"SLAVYANKA" - THE BEST WOMEN'S MAGAZINE OF RUSSIA
“A woman cannot live without faith” , - it was these words of the venerable Optina elder Barsanuphius that became the motto of the Slavyanka Orthodox Women's Magazine, created five years ago. We ask the Lord to teach us to believe, and the main goal of our magazine is to help women learn faith. A woman, according to the words of the Apostle Paul, is like a vessel, albeit a weaker one. And with what this vessel is filled, so it will give water to its neighbors - spouse, children, pupils.
The magazine is published with the blessing of His Holiness Patriarch Alexy II, and for five years now it has been bringing the light of the Christian faith to its readers. And not only through the preaching of wonderful priests, among whom are our regular authors, Archpriests Sergiy Nikolaev, Ilya Shugaev, Sergiy Filimonov, Alexander Zakharov, Mikhail Dudko. But also through the visual range - through the beauty of our native nature, through the beauty of Russian churches and monasteries.
For five years, Slavyanka has been visited by such serious interlocutors as the abbot of the Danilov Monastery, Archimandrite Alexy (Polikarpov), Archpriests Georgy Breev, Gennady Nefedov, Valerian Krechetov, the former host of the television program cycle "The Kitchen of Father Hermogenes" Hieromonk Hermogenes (Ananiev), candidate of Pedagogical Sciences Hieromonk Cyprian (Yashchenko), Optina Elder Schema Iliy, Abbot of the Vatopedi Monastery of Mount Athos, Archimandrite Ephraim.
From issue to issue, the magazine tells about the high destiny of a woman, about women's destinies, love, miracles of faith, health, the moral foundations of marriage, family relationships, raising children, and Russian traditions. Our regular authors are the priests, who answer simple and complex questions from readers, explain how to behave in church, talk about the meaning of the Sacraments, the history of church holidays, the lives of saints and miraculous icons.
Last year, Bishop Barsanuphiy, head of the affairs of the Moscow Patriarchate, Bishop Panteleimon, Archbishop of Rostov and Novocherkassk, Bishop Sergius, Metropolitan of Voronezh and Borisoglebsk, Bishop Theodosius, Metropolitan of Omsk and Tara, Bishop Sergius, Archbishop of Ternopil and Kremenets, Archbishop of Vladivostok and Primorsky Veniamin. Bishops Daniel of Arkhangelsk and Kholmogory and his brother Tikhon of Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk and Kurile.
It is gratifying to realize that the efforts of the editorial staff of the journal are rewarded with the attention and warm response of readers. The headings of "Slavyanka" are close and interesting to every woman, the problems of the magazine are directly related to the spiritual and moral problems of modern Russian society. After all, our main task is to reflect the Christian life of the Russian people, the grace-filled power and beauty of Orthodoxy, the beauty of the Russian land and the people living on it. First of all, the beauty and strength of the charm of a Christian woman, the guardian of our religious traditions, in which we see the greatness of the past and the guarantee of the present of our Motherland.
Ekaterina Romanova
Beautiful Slav
Bright city. 9th century AD e.
At the feast of the princely centurion, all the military nobility of the Yaroye settlement gathered. Swords rattled, cups rattled, horses neighed, laughter was incessantly heard, amusing loud music played, brightly dressed women scurried about in complete turmoil.
They celebrated a successful polyudie - the collection of tribute. Armfuls of fur, collected from every house of the conquered villages, lay on the wagons in shiny heaps. These were real treasures. Skins could be paid at any auction. The slaves huddled around the wagons with furs tried not to draw attention to themselves, so as not to fall under the arm of the heated and intoxicated soldiers returning home. The servants, whom Russia also traded a lot, were highly valued, especially young and beautiful slave girls. The younger and prettier girl, the more skins was her price.
The vigilantes, rejoicing at the return home, happily sat down at plentiful tables with game, honey and intoxicating brew. The terms for preparing ships for sending to Tsargrad for the sale of the collected tribute were hastily agreed, the wives were ordered to sort out their personal luggage, the servants led away the horses, and the uproar was unbearable.
For the most part, the slaves looked tired and indifferent, their eyes only lit up when the wind carried the fragrant smells from the tables laden with food.
Bears, don't! - the middle-aged tearful woman persuaded her son. - If anyone notices, they will take you away from your mother. Do not do this!
The child, not paying attention to the mother, reached for the crushed apples lying next to the wagon. Apparently, the pangs of hunger became unbearable for him.
The girl, who was sitting at the very wheels of the wagon and had not previously shown any interest in her surroundings, pulled her hand out of the weakened hemp rope knot and, stretching it out to the apples, gathered juicy pieces soiled with earth for the baby.
Immediately, a whip of tow sang right above her. With a resonant click, the whip hit the place where the hand of a young slave had been a moment ago, rose again with a sound like a sigh, but did not have time to go down.
Stop, Gneshka! - said the centurion's wife, not raising her voice accustomed to command, but so that the servant implicitly obeyed. - Can't you see, the girl is hungry.
The young grimy slave girl raised her lively, burning eyes in surprise to the woman who interested her very much. An open intelligent face, a high forehead, imperious lips, chic clothes made of thin fabric and fur, the long sleeves of which hung down to the ground. It was impossible to argue with such a hostess. In any case, it was hard to find someone who could do it.
Noticing how the child smacks with pleasure, nibbling an apple, the woman, arching an eyebrow, added:
The girl did not earn food for herself. These people have not eaten for a long time, order to feed the slaves.
After waiting for Gnieszka to send her assistants with the necessary assignments, she ordered that the slaves be placed for the night.
Anyway, no one will share the booty until tomorrow.
While the little slave was thinking about whether such a delay was good and whether it would be possible to run that night, the centurion Sivoy himself, nicknamed Strong, appeared behind the woman.
It was a bearded, tall, young, like all warriors, a man who managed to distinguish himself before the prince and valor, and courage, and honor. His sunburned face was rough with scars, his eyes sparkled with gray cold, like melting ice.
It seemed that even the general uproar subsided, and next to him the imperious woman, his wife, seemed to have become smaller in stature. The centurion on this earth is almost like a prince, he is here both court and power, and master of everything. Sivoy threw a hard look at his wife, chuckled thoughtfully, turned his eyes to the crowd of slaves and briefly said, pointing to the hushed girl:
Prepare this one for me.
The woman tensed, but, without revealing her state in any way, she said:
Sivoy Strong, she's just a child!
Okay Sivoy.
By the way she pursed her lips, the girl realized that the woman did not like the choice of her husband. She, a slave, didn’t have to choose at all, so she silently got up, obeying the woman’s gesture, and stood, waiting for Gnieshka to free her from her bonds.
What is your name? the woman turned to her.
And the girl answered her as she answered everyone, although she liked the centurion's wife many times more than the others.
In the lands where I come from, the enemy is not called by his name, so that he does not gain power over you.
The woman laughed. This slave was amused, despite the fact that her husband looked at her. And she saw in her a lot in common with herself.
Do I not rule over you now, like my husband? He took you as a tribute. Your own father bought you off the unbearable burden of offerings to the prince. The customs of your homeland do not matter here.
My father was wise and wished me all the best. He believed that the strength and wisdom of my ancestors would not let me perish in a foreign land. After six years of slavery, I will be able to return home.
Everyone believes in it at first, - the woman said with bitter sadness and turned away, then again turned to the girl:
I will call you Lyubava, - she said so that the centurion who was about to leave could hear. - Our lord has chosen you.
The woman's words were cold and empty. Lyubava felt this with her whole body, as she also felt that this choice did not bode well for her.
“What will happen now? Violence? Will they be sacrificed? Well, they won't marry her, really! Then why these ceremonies?
Meanwhile, the centurion returned to the squad, the woman moved towards her high tower, and the girl, who had acquired a new name, trudged along under the boring glances of her fellow tribesmen.
In the tower she was met by a fat slave with narrow eyes. She immediately scanned the newcomer with her eyes and muttered hostilely.
Let's go to the bathhouse, skinny nag. We will bring you to mind for the owner. What's your name?
Lyubava, - the girl said with deceptive calmness. She understood more and more clearly that she did not want to talk to anyone except the mistress of this house.
Love is so Love. All of you one road, - the woman has laughed.
Then for a long time and with disgust she rubbed Lyubava, who was sitting in a wooden trough.
The girl didn't understand anything. No one was going to explain anything, everyone was hostile to her, if not angry ... One thing became clear - something unpleasant was waiting for her.
During the campaign, seeing how the combatants raped slaves in groups and one by one, Lyubava could hardly imagine that it could be even worse. She was glad that throughout the whole journey, none of the centurion's squad paid any attention to her. She hid behind the broad backs of other women who were being led away in full. She gathered her hair under the collar of her clothes, at every opportunity she soiled her face and pressed herself against the wagon. She stayed away from men, trying to catch their eyes as little as possible.
It must be said that the soldiers did not perform any special atrocities. Everything was as usual: laughter, drunken valiant whistling, the desire to excel in front of the rest of the warriors. Many women were not at all opposed to amusing the tired warriors, helping them wash themselves in the bathhouse of any of the passing villages. They just wanted to earn more tasty food than the usual feeding of prisoners.
No matter what they say about the enemies in their tribe, falling into full, many began to lead a completely different life. They tried to please some kind combatant, to please him, to put in a good word or take him to work. During the campaign, people live not quite an ordinary life, and everyone tries to use it for their own good. Just not Love. She carried herself like a mouse, or even like the shadow of a mouse. And even now, if it weren’t for that ill-fated apple, they would send her to someone’s farm to clean the yards or even sit with the children, or maybe tinker in the fields.
Lyubava sighed: “Oh, if this little noisy Mishek knew what his savior received for her kindness.”
By this time, a white thin dress, trimmed with a ribbon along the hem, was already pulled on her. After the dirty, sticky rag, rough and hard, the touch of soft fabric was pleasant. The feet, washed from the dirt, bled a little, but strips of cloth were wound around them and brand new bast shoes were put on. Then Lyubava was taken to the upper room, where there was a high wooden bed with a soft bedding of hay.
Her mistress arrived. First, the woman walked around the room, carefully examining every corner, as if wondering if Lyubava could bite her way through, then turned to the girl.
And you're beautiful…
The woman seemed to be surprised by this conclusion herself.
And I think smart. What can you say about your position now? Do you like our welcome?
Lyubava lowered her eyes, feverishly wondering what to answer.
When a slave is washed and dressed by other slaves, most likely they want to eat her.
As always, what was thought escaped her tongue, and the girl reproached herself for her haste. To Lyubava's surprise, the hostess laughed.
I like you more and more. You are brave. You have strength. I don't know your tribe, but there is something in you... Where will you be from? However, this is not important.
The woman once again examined the captive and walked around her several times. Her gaze was unkind, but interested. For some reason, it seemed that she was invulnerable, and everyone obeys her here, even the centurion, with all the dependence and respect that the rest of the inhabitants had for him.
Lyubava had never met such powerful women, and she wanted to be like her. As if guessing her thoughts, the woman spoke:
Sivoy thought you looked like me in face. So it seems to the servants.
With these words, she felt the body and face of the maiden...
In adolescence, Maria Lozhkina (the future schema nun Olga) went to the Kashirsky Nikitsky convent in the Tula province, where she later took monastic vows with the name of Moses. In the monastery, mother sewed and quilted blankets. When the monastery was closed, mother was severely beaten, her skull was pierced and evicted from the monastery, like the rest of the sisters. One of the nuns, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, after the closing of the monastery, went to her father's house and took Mother Moses with her.
Nina Aleksandrovna Chavchavadze was born in a fateful and glorious time for Russia - in the autumn of 1812. She was eldest daughter Prince Alexander Gersevanovich Chavchavadze, hero Patriotic War, personal adjutant to Barclay de Tolly.
The Sabinins were direct descendants of the legendary Russian hero Ivan Susanin. Marfa's father, Stepan Karpovich, early showed the ability to foreign languages, and so exceptional that a student who studied for copper pennies was able to brilliantly graduate from the theological academy and get a priest's job at the Russian embassy in Denmark.
In her youth, she was a real Russian beauty: sable eyebrows, falcon eyes, light brown braid to the waist. At the same time, she was tall - heroic - growth, stately, prominent and unusually strong: in peasant work she knew neither rest nor fatigue. Such a horse could stop a galloping horse, and step into a burning hut without fear.
Believers are well aware that it is not money, property and material goods in general that are sinful, but an addiction to them, a thirst for enrichment and profit. The desire to have as much money as possible, to buy fashionable and prestigious things eventually turns into a destructive passion. The love of money is insatiable: the more a person receives, the more he desires. St. John Chrysostom remarked surprisingly accurately: “nothing drives the mind into such insanity as attachment to temporary objects.” How to avoid this destructive passion? And how to distinguish the line that separates daily bread and excesses that harm the soul and body?
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