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Prologue
Prayers are heard in silence. And you are absorbed internally. And the image of God on the icon gives you light. And the lips whisper forgive us, we pray for health. God guides us to the truth and shows the way.

Chapter 1
Open the way for us. And what light is in you, man? What is your soul filled with, if with cruelty and heartlessness, then this path is not to God. Your Orthodox aspirations will be heard. The light of God will merge with thoughts and intentions.

Chapter 2
The path is given by God from birth to death. The cradle is clean and hot. The mother's gentle hands press the child to her chest. And above her is an icon. God's light.

Chapter 3
Quiet chant. The soul speaks to God:
-Give warmth. Give goodness. Give light.
- Do you hear me, my daughter?
-Oh God, I'm so happy, the baby was born.

Chapter 4
Five years have passed. Your daughter is growing up. You read her poems and fairy tales. She listens attentively. Another year will pass and she will study letters and words. She will learn to read.

Chapter 5
Time flies. People grow up and their children grow up. It is necessary to see both the light and the good. You should be good people. God guides. And thank Him for everything.

Chapter 6
"Soothe sorrows, teach patience, and send strength." And we walked, and there was light, and there was grief, and there was joy. And you reached the end. You understood a lot. Even if it's the smallest thing, it's not a problem. It's not a problem for those people who go even further and it's far from the end, but only the beginning.

Chapter 7
Orthodox justice is great, like God's sheet laid out among people. "Your gaze is directed at God. Where will it lead? How many doors will it open." God gives us light and goodness. He gives us a rich life.

Chapter 8
Let your thoughts be bright. Let the purity of soul be in us. Avoid what is alien. Strive for those close to you. Support each other.
-You're with me again. And I feel so happy and warm.
-I am always with you. Wherever you are and are located.

Chapter 9
Day after day, like raindrops, they fill life with meaning. The daughter, now a schoolgirl, brings into the house not only letters from textbooks, but also the first questions about the world and faith.
“Mom, why does God allow people to suffer?” she asks one evening, looking at the candle flame in front of the icon.
The heroine thinks, hugging the child.
- Suffering is like a shadow from the light. Without it, we would not know what true joy is. God gives trials not for torment, but so that our soul becomes stronger, like a tree in the wind.
The daughter nods, understanding lighting up her eyes.

Chapter 10
Spring. At the Easter service, the heroine stands next to an elderly neighbor who can barely stand on her feet. She offers her hand, and she whispers:
- Thank you, child. You are like an angel.
“We are all angels for each other if we allow God to act through us,” the heroine answers.
Later, at home, she writes in her diary: "Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to be someone's light. Teach me to give without counting, and to love without expecting a reward."

Chapter 11
A summer thunderstorm catches them in a field. The daughter is frightened by the thunder, but the heroine opens her umbrella and says:
- Listen to the rain singing! This is God reminding us: after the storm there will always be sun.
They run home, laughing, and suddenly see a wet kitten on the path. The daughter insists: "Let's take him!" Now there are three hearts in their house: mother, child, and a little guardian who purrs at their feet every morning.

Chapter 12
Autumn of life. The heroine notices her first grey hair in the mirror. Her daughter has grown up and is getting ready for her wedding. In the church where she is standing under the altar, the heroine catches herself thinking: “How quickly time flies… But love is eternal. It, like God’s light, knows no end.”
After the ceremony, she kisses her daughter and whispers:
— May your path be illuminated as mine is. Give thanks for everything — even for the silence between words.

Chapter 13: Trip to the Monastery
The days became shorter, and the thoughts became deeper. The heroine had long dreamed of visiting the St. Elisabeth Monastery, which stood on the edge of the forest, three hours' drive from home. Her daughter, already an adult, supported her:
- Mom, you need this. Go. I'll take care of everything here.
The road was quiet. Fields covered with the first frost, as if sprinkled with powdered sugar, flashed past the bus window. There was a slight excitement in my heart: “What will this place tell me? What will I hear?”
Meeting
The monastery greeted her with the ringing of bells. Stone walls, warm light of lamps, the smell of incense - everything here breathed peace. At the gates a novice sister with kind eyes was waiting for her.
“Bless me,” the heroine bowed.
- God bless. Are you going to see Elder Macarius?
She nodded. She had long wanted to talk to him about what was troubling her soul: the feeling that there was something unspoken in her faith, some kind of quiet emptiness.
Conversation with the Elder
The elder's cell was small, with a single icon of the Savior on the wall. The elder sat by the window, his wrinkled hands fingering his rosary.
“Come here, child,” he said softly.
She sat down, clutching a handkerchief in her hands. She talked about her own things: about her fears for her daughter, about her doubts, about how difficult it is to thank God on days when “everything falls out of your hands.”
The old man listened, then handed her a dry sprig of rosemary:
- Smell it.
She brought it to her nose - a bitter but clean aroma.
- Do you feel it? This plant does not lose its scent even when dried. So it is with the soul: if there is a spark of faith in it, it will shine even in the darkest nights.
Then he gave her advice that she remembered for the rest of her life:
— Don’t look for loud miracles. Sometimes God speaks in whispers — in the rustling of leaves, in a chance encounter, in a line from the Psalter that “accidentally” opened. Thank Him for small signs.
Night in the monastery
Before going to bed, the heroine went out into the yard. The sky was strewn with stars, and in the distance the windows of the church were glowing, where the night service was taking place. The same novice approached her:
— Do you want to come in?
She entered. The chanting of the monks, the warm light of the candles, the quiet whisper of prayers… Suddenly her heart sank with inexplicable joy. “This is the answer,” she thought. Not in words, but in feeling – as if someone invisible had embraced her soul.
In the morning, when she left, she left her anxiety in the monastery, but took with her a sprig of rosemary and new words in her heart:
“Thank you, Lord, even for the silence between your answers.”
Return
At home, her daughter was waiting for her with hot tea.
“Well, how is it?” she asked.
The heroine smiled, taking dried rosemary out of her bag:
- It really does smell. Even dried out.

Chapter 14: Letters from the Monastery
First letter
A week after her return, the heroine found an envelope from the St. Elisabeth Convent in her mailbox. The paper was simple, slightly rough, and the handwriting was neat, with thin curls of letters.
“Dear Anna in Christ,
Sister Agafya is writing to you. Remember how we talked at the gates of the monastery about how God sometimes hides His gifts in ordinary things? Today our kitten, whom we picked up in the winter, brought me to the threshold of the cell… a dried leaf in the shape of a cross. I laughed and cried at the same time. Here is your “little sign”!
How are you? Write if you wish. We are all praying for you here.
With love in Christ, Sister Agafya."
The heroine reread the letter three times. That same evening she sat down at the table, took out a sheet of paper and a pen. She thought for a long time about where to start, and then simply wrote what she felt:
“Dear sister Agafya,
Your letter warmed my soul, like a cup of hot tea on a cold day. We are doing well. My daughter planted rosemary in a pot - the same one I brought from you. She says: "Let it remind us that even in dryness there is aroma."
And also... I started noticing these "little signs". Yesterday the boy next door, who never said hello, suddenly ran up and gave me a pebble. "For your collection," he said. I really did collect stones once...
How is the kitten? How is Father Makarii? Tell him that I now repeat his words about "God's whisper" as a prayer.
Yours, Anna."
She sealed the envelope, put on a stamp, and suddenly realized: “These are not just letters. This is a continuation of that conversation at the icon.”
Second Letter: Confession on Paper
"Anna, today we had a thunderstorm. Lightning struck the old oak tree near the monastery walls - but the cross on the dome remained intact. Father Makarii said: "Do you see how God preserves what seems fragile to us?"
And what about your "fragility"? You mentioned in your last letter that you are afraid of old age...
The heroine sighed. She hadn't planned to write about this, but her pen seemed to obey someone else's will:
"Sister Agafya, I am not afraid of old age, but of uselessness. My daughter has grown up, my grandchildren are studying far away... And what is left for me? But yesterday I found my old diary. There were lines I wrote 20 years ago: "Today I warmed a freezing dog, and it licked my hand." I cried. Isn't it a good thing to remember what kindness is?
P.S. I am enclosing cornflower seeds - they grow behind our fence. Plant them near your cell."
Third letter: The answer she didn't expect
Instead of a letter, there is a small parcel. In it:
- A woven cross made from blades of grass (Sister Agafya wrote: “This is the work of our girls from the orphanage. They learn to weave and pray at the same time”);
- A leaflet with a quote: “Gratitude is the memory of the heart”;
- And... a photograph. In it, Father Makarii is standing under the very oak tree where lightning struck. The tree has turned black, but someone has attached an icon of St. Nicholas to its trunk.
On the back there is an inscription:
"Anna, you asked in your last letter: "What remains?" Look at this tree. It will no longer provide shade, but has become a home for an icon. Perhaps this is our task - to become a "place" for something sacred, even when it seems that our strength is running out.
Your sister Agafya."
The heroine pressed the photograph to her chest. That same day, she went to church and lit a candle not for herself, but for those "girls from the shelter" whom she had never seen.

Chapter 15: Sister Agafya's Visit
Unexpected news
On a cold November morning, when the heroine was sorting through her mail, her fingers came across an unusual envelope - with a red stripe along the edge and the sign of the monastery seal. Inside was not an ordinary letter, but a telegram:
"Dear Anna. I will be passing through your city on November 20. There is important business in the diocese. If you allow me, I will visit you. Sister Agafya."
Her heart began to beat faster. They had been writing to each other for almost a year, but had never thought about meeting. The daughter, seeing her excitement, smiled:
- Mom, you're glowing! You'll finally see your "angel friend," as you call her.
Preparations
A week before the visit, an unusual stir began in the house:
- The heroine rearranged the furniture in the living room so that there was a chair next to the icon of the Mother of God “with the softest light from the window.”
- The grandchildren drew a greeting card with rosemary and a temple.
- Even the cat, as if sensing the importance of the moment, brought and placed his favorite toy, a battered mouse, at the threshold.
The night before, Anna had been unable to fall asleep for a long time. “What are we going to talk about? What if we feel awkward?” she thought. But in the morning, when she was putting the last autumn asters in a vase, her anxiety subsided. “God doesn’t send meetings by chance,” she recalled Father Makarii’s words.
Meeting
She recognized her sister Agafya immediately - by her light gait and warm eyes that shone even in the photograph. Only in life her face turned out to be younger than Anna imagined.
“Bless me,” the guest bowed at the threshold.
“God bless!” the heroine answered, feeling her voice trembling.
They embraced, and at that moment Anna suddenly understood: this was not just a meeting of two people. This was a continuation of the prayer that they had been leading from a distance all these months.
Conversation over tea
At the table, where herbal tea with honey was steaming, Sister Agafya said:
- About the girls from the orphanage (it turns out that two of them are now studying at an icon painting school).
- About how an oak tree, struck by lightning, produced new shoots at its roots.
- And about the main purpose of her visit - she was instructed to create a workshop for women in crisis situations in the diocese.
"We want to teach them not only crafts, but also to see the beauty of God's world," the sister explained. "And I thought... Maybe you could help? Your letters - that's what they're about."
The heroine froze with a cup in her hands. "Me? How can I help?"
"You know how to notice a miracle in the ordinary," Sister Agafya said softly. "You can't learn that from books. Maybe you'll come sometimes and tell them your stories? For example, about the little stone from the boy, or about that incident with the dog..."
A walk in the park
After tea they went out into the park. Yellow leaves rustled under their feet, and Sister Agafya suddenly stopped at an old oak tree:
“Look,” she pointed to a hollow where someone had left a tiny icon of St. Seraphim of Sarov. “Here it is, your ‘book of miracles’ – it writes itself.”
Anna took out her phone and took a photo. “This will be the first page of a new chapter,” she thought.
Parting
When leaving, Sister Agafya gave her a small wooden cross:
- It's from the chips of that very oak. Father Makarii blessed it. Let it remind us: even from the "broken" God can create something new.
When the car disappeared around the corner, the heroine realized that something had changed in her. It was not for nothing that they often quoted in their letters: "There are no accidents with God."
Afterword
In the evening she wrote in her diary:
"Today Providence came to visit me. And left not only a cross, but also a question: "Am I ready to become a bridge for someone's hope?" Tomorrow I will call the diocese..."

Chapter 16: First Workshop Session
Doubts and preparations
The morning began with anxiety. Anna was sorting through the materials she had prepared on the kitchen table: dried flowers, shells, photographs from pilgrimage trips – everything that could become a “story about a miracle.” Her daughter, noticing her excitement, put her hand on her shoulder:
- Mom, they are not examiners, but people who, like you once did, need light. Just be yourself.
The heroine took a deep breath and put another thing in her bag - a tattered notebook with the inscription "God's hints", where she had been writing down those same "little signs" for years.
Acquaintance
The workshop was located in the basement of the church. Low vaulted ceilings, the smell of wax and wood, the quiet hum of voices. Five women of different ages sat at the table, curiously looking at Anna as she entered. Sister Agafya introduced her:
- This is Anna Vasilievna. She will teach us to see the unusual in the ordinary.
“So we’re going to… what, look at the clouds?” the red-haired woman of about forty (as it turned out later, Lida) chuckled skeptically.
“No,” the heroine answered unexpectedly firmly. “We will learn gratitude. And that is more difficult.”
She laid out her “exhibits” on the table:
- A pebble from the boy next door.
- Photo of an oak tree with an icon in the hollow.
- A note from a diary 20 years ago: "Today I fed a homeless man. He said, 'God bless you.'"
- Each of you has such a "little thing" that warms the soul. Let's try to find it?
Breakthrough
The women were silent. Then one, the most silent (Nastya), suddenly pulled a crumpled movie ticket out of her pocket:
- My son... he's autistic. He doesn't speak. But yesterday he gave me this himself. - Her fingers trembled. - This is the first gift in 12 years.
The room froze. Anna, feeling a lump in her throat, handed her notebook to her:
- Write it down. Now. Later... later you can forget. But this way, it will remain.
By the end of the lesson, the following were on the table:
- A fragment of a poem found in a hospital ward.
- A button from my deceased mother's coat.
- Even Lida, that same skeptic, brought a photo of a homeless dog: - I picked it up. Now it sleeps at my feet and... snores, damn it.
Sister Agafya stood in the corner, smiling quietly. Her gaze said, "See? You've already become a bridge."
Returning home
In the evening, Anna sat in the kitchen for a long time, rereading new entries in her notebook (now shared). Her daughter put a cup of chamomile tea in front of her:
- So how are your students?
"They taught me more than I taught them," the heroine whispered. "Do you know what Nastya said when we parted? "Thank you for reminding me that I'm not just the mother of a special child. I'm also a woman who knows how to notice gifts."
She opened the last page of her notebook and wrote:
"Thank you, Lord, for this day. For letting me see that hope is like embers. They seem to go out, but when you blow on them, they burst into flames."

Chapter 17: Letters of New Meaning
From sister Agafya:
"Dear Anna! Nastya brought a notebook to the workshop. Now all our girls write down "good grains". Lida even started a blog - she writes about the "sanctity of everyday life". And that red dog... You won't believe it - she brought a puppy to the church! The rector jokes: "So much for missionary work". Your rosemary near my cell has blossomed. Father Makarii says it's a sign. He doesn't specify what kind. Yours, Agafya."
Anna's answer:
"Sister, now I understand why you gave me that cross made of splinters. We are all like that oak tree: it seems that lightning has shattered us into pieces, and new life is growing from the cracks. P.S. My daughter suggested that we have a "Day of Small Joys" in the workshop. We will bring jam and learn to bake gingerbread in the shape of... no, not crosses. Clouds. After all, God is in them too."

Chapter 18: Monastery Festival
Invitation
A letter from Sister Agafya arrived at the end of March - a thin envelope with a gilded edge, like the liturgical books:
“Dear Anna!
During Bright Week we will have a celebration – the consecration of the new icon “Unexpected Joy”, which was painted by our students. Come with all the women from the workshop! After the liturgy we will have an open-air meal and a fair of children’s crafts (our girls make candles). Let your charges not be embarrassed – we will have music and even swings for children.
We are waiting for you as our first guests.
With love in Christ, Sister Agafya.
P.S. Father Macarius told me to tell her: “Tell her that the rosemary survived the winter.”
Anna read the letter aloud in class. The women looked at each other:
“I’ve never been to a monastery…” Lida muttered, fiddling with the edge of her scarf.
“And my Vlad has sensory overload,” Nastya said thoughtfully. “The noise, the crowd…”
- But the swing! - the youngest one, Olya, suddenly chimed in. - My daughter is jumping for joy!
Anna smiled:
— We will not go as pilgrims, but as… friends. Who simply want to share the joy.
Road
The bus ordered by the temple departed at dawn. The interior smelled of Easter cakes and wax – the women were carrying gifts:
- Nastya - a box of gingerbread baked according to an old recipe (flour, honey, no dyes - "so that Vlad can have it").
- Lida - photos of her dog with puppies (“let the girls from the shelter laugh”).
- Olya - a bag of dried apples from the dacha (“for monastery tea”).
Anna looked out the window at the awakening fields and thought about how strange life was: six months ago these women didn’t even know each other, and now…
“Look, there’s a temple!” Olya’s daughter suddenly shouted.
On the hill, in the rays of the rising sun, the domes sparkled.
Meeting
Sister Agafya was waiting for them at the gate, in a festive blue robe, with a wide smile:
- Christ is risen!
“He is risen indeed!” the women answered in chorus.
Even Nastya’s son, Vlad, usually withdrawn, suddenly said:
— The ringing... is beautiful...
The bells really did ring in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
A miracle for Vlad
After the service, when everyone went out into the yard, Anna noticed how Nastya was nervously squeezing her son's hand. The boy was cowering from the noise.
Suddenly one of the nuns approached – Sister Stefanida, an elderly woman with a wrinkled face:
- Boy, come with me.
She took him... to the bees. It turns out there were beehives behind the monastery fence.
"They hum steadily," the sister explained. "Like a prayer. Look."
And - oh, miracle! - Vlad, usually afraid of everything new, froze, enchanted. An hour later, he himself was showing his mother how bees carry pollen.
“How did you guess?” asked a shocked Nastya.
“My brother… also had a special childhood,” the nun answered simply.
Fair and recognition
At the fair, Lida suddenly burst into tears at the stand with children's drawings:
- This... this looks like what my Kolka drew when he was five...
It turned out that her son, who died in the accident, also liked to imitate doves. Sister Agafya silently hugged her.
At that time, Anna was standing by the new rosemary – the very one that had “survived the winter.” Father Macarius approached her:
- Well, Anna Vasilievna, do you now understand why I brought you and your sister together?
She looked at the women from the workshop:
- Olya laughed, swinging her daughter on the swing.
- For the first time in years, Nastya took a photo of her son smiling.
- Even Lida was now animatedly telling something to the nuns, waving a photograph of the dog.
“I understand,” the heroine whispered. “This is ‘Unexpected Joy.’”
Return
It was noisy on the bus on the way back:
- Do you remember how Sister Stefanida...
- And these cherry pies!
- And when did Vlad touch the bees?
Anna closed her eyes. In her pocket she had a gift from her sister Agafya - a rose petal dried in the shape of a heart.
“Thank you, Lord, for this joy…that no one planned.”

Chapter 19: Newspaper Article
An unexpected call
A week after the trip to the monastery, Anna received a call from an excited Olya:
- Anna Vasilyevna, do you read Vechernyaya Gazeta? There's an article about us there! It's called "Workshop of Joy: How Ordinary Things Become Miracles."
Anna opened the latest issue and froze. On the second page was a photograph: she was standing at the board in the workshop, and women were looking at her notebook with “God’s hints.” The caption read:
"Anna Gromova (right) and participants of the project "Light in the Palm" - about how gratitude changes life."
The author of the article, journalist Elena Sorokina, wrote:
"Something unusual is happening in the basement of the Church of St. Nicholas. They don't teach crafts here - they teach you to see. Over the course of a year, dozens of women have passed through the workshop, and each one has taken with her not only skills, but also a "joy diary" - a notebook where they write down moments that warm the soul..."
Anna reread the text three times. "How did she find out about us? Who told her?"
Visit of a journalist
The answer came the next day. There was a knock on the workshop door. A young woman in glasses and with a dictaphone stood on the threshold:
- Hello! I'm Elena Sorokina. Can we talk?
It turned out that her aunt was one of the nuns at St. Elizabeth's Convent.
— After your trip, she called me and said: "Lena, write about these people. Their story is more important than anything you usually write about."
The women became agitated:
“Why do you need this?” Lida frowned.
“So that others know: there is hope even in the darkest situations,” the journalist answered sincerely.
Anna suddenly realized: this is a chance.
“Okay,” she said. “But on one condition. You will spend not just one day with us, but a week. You will see everything for yourself.”
Truth Week
What Elena saw shocked her:
- Monday: Nastya brought a video of Vlad tying his shoelaces for the first time. The women cried.
- Wednesday: Lida admitted that thanks to the workshop she stopped taking sedatives.
- Friday: A former participant of the project came to visit - now she works in an animal shelter.
Elena wrote everything down. But the main thing happened on Sunday.
Confession of a journalist
After the lesson, Elena did not turn off the recorder. Instead, she sat down at the common table and said:
- I... want to share too.
It turned out that her mother had recently died.
“I was so angry with God that I even took off my cross,” her voice trembled. “But when my aunt told me about your monastery holiday… I thought: what if my mother is also rejoicing somewhere right now? Like those women on the swings…”
There was silence in the room. Then Olya stood up and hugged her:
— Write this down too. In your “joy diary.”
The article that changed everything
The material was published under the title:
"When God Seems Silent: Stories of Those Who Learned to Hear Him in the Whispers of Ordinary Days."
The effect exceeded expectations:
- New people began to come to the workshop - not only women in difficult situations, but also those who were simply “tired of hopelessness.”
- The TV channel offered to film a short story.
- Even Lida, who always avoided publicity, agreed to give an interview:
“I used to think that God was somewhere out there,” she pointed to the ceiling. “But it turns out that He’s here. In my dog, who snores at my feet.”
Letter from sister Agafya
A month later, Anna received a parcel. It contained a clipping of an article and a note:
"Dear Anna! Now our monastery girls are also keeping "joy diaries". Father Makarii says that you have "infected" us with goodness. P.S. Come for Christmas - we will put up a nativity scene with your women!"
Anna smiled. A new entry appeared in the notebook:
"Thank you, Lord, for words that become bridges. And for the fact that even journalists sometimes write not "about", but "with the heart"."

Chapter 20: The Book
An unexpected offer
Elena Sorokina came to the workshop with a thick folder in her hands.
- Anna Vasilievna, I have an idea. Let's publish a book.
She laid out the printouts on the table:
- Excerpts from the diaries of women in the workshop.
- Photos - Vlad with bees, Lida with her dog, monastery rosemary.
- Articles from readers who, after publication, began to keep their own “joy diaries”.
“It’s not you or me who needs this,” Elena said passionately. “It’s those who are in the dark now who need this.”
Anna shuffled through the pages. “Can our little stories really become something bigger?”
Doubts and Decision
In the evening she called her sister Agafya.
“What if it comes across as… self-indulgence?” she asked.
"Do you remember the parable of the widow and her mite?" the nun replied. "A little given with love becomes great in the hands of God."
At the next session, Anna invited the women to discuss the idea. The reactions varied:
- Olya immediately started coming up with a name: “Like a cloud in coffee” or “Joy in pinches.”
- Nastya was embarrassed: - I'm not a writer...
- Lida chuckled: - Well, if it helps someone...
But when Anna read the notes from the shared notebook out loud, everyone fell silent.
“This is… our life,” Nastya whispered.
Working on a book
The whole world wrote:
- Elena structured the stories.
- Olya drew illustrations (it turned out she studied at an art school).
- Even Vlad participated - his photo of bees became the cover.
The most difficult moment came when it was necessary to include Lida’s story about her dead son.
“I can’t,” she clenched her fists. “It’s like… putting my soul up for sale.”
- Then let's write it like this, - Anna suggested. - Without names. Simply: "One woman lost her child. But one day a stray dog licked her hand..."
Lida was silent for a long time, then nodded.
A miracle on the way to publication
There was no money for printing. But here:
1. A charity fair was organized in the monastery - they sold the pupils' handicrafts.
2. One of the readers of the article (the owner of a printing house) offered a discount.
3. Sister Agafya sent an envelope with money: “It’s from an anonymous person. He said: ‘For a book about hope.’”
The book was simply called: “Give Thanks for Everything.”
Presentation
On the day of the release, the small temple hall was packed to the brim. They arrived:
- Workshop participants (Lida wore a bright dress for the first time in years).
- Journalists.
- Even Father Macarius, who came specially from the monastery.
When Anna took the floor, her voice trembled:
— This book is not a guide to happiness. It is a testimony. That God speaks to us through…
Then the door swung open. An unfamiliar woman with a tear-stained face entered the hall:
— I read the announcement in the newspaper… My son is in hospital. The doctors say there is no chance. I don’t know why I came…
Nastya suddenly stood up and walked up to her:
- And my Vlad also had a "hopeless" diagnosis. Here it is. - She pointed at the boy, who was leafing through a book intently. - Do you want me to tell you about bees?
Letter a year later
Anna received a letter from a distant city:
"Dear Anna Vasilievna! A nurse at the oncology clinic gave me your book. Now my friends and I are keeping a "joy diary." Yesterday we wrote: "The sunbeam on the wall was in the shape of a heart." Thank you. Yours, Tanya."
That day, a new entry appeared in Anna’s notebook:
"Thank you, Lord, that words are like bread. When you share, there is no less of it, only more."

Epilogue: The Circle is Closed
On Christmas Day, the first review from a spiritual magazine was brought to the workshop:
"'Give Thanks in Everything' is not a book. It is a door. To a world where suffering and joy go hand in hand, and every tear is sanctified by God's light."
Anna reread these lines and suddenly realized: it all started with a simple notebook. With her attempt to thank God for the "small signs." And now...
She looked at the women at the table. Lida was arguing with Elena about a new project. Nastya was helping Olya draw postcards. In the corner, Vlad was showing his sister Agafya how bees make honey.
“So this is the very “for everything,” thought Anna.