One poor wanderer somehow walked along the road. Tired, he thought it would be nice to rest, and stopped near a large wooden crucifix. He ate what was in his knapsack and lay down under the cross. As soon as I fell asleep, a hurricane arose, a strong gust of wind knocked a cross onto the traveler and broke his lower back. He began to moan and groan, and at that time a certain man drove by on a keruts and, seeing what the wind had done to the cross, took the traveler to the village. There was no one in that village to treat him, and the people decided to call the pope to give him communion. The priest came with the Gospel, read what he was supposed to read, and handed the unfortunate man a small cross. His eyes widened:
“Oh, father,” he says, “go away with this cross, because when he grows up, he will be just as wicked as the one by the side of the road who broke my lower back.”
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru