In the quaint village of Goletkovo somewhere in the heart of the Tambov province of Russia, a remarkable woman was born. She was Maria Zakharovna Fedina, later known as Blessed Maria of Diveyevo. When asked about her patronymic, she simply said, “We, the blessed ones, are all Ivanovnas after Saint John the Baptist.”
She lost her parents, Zakhar and Pelageya Fedina, when she was just thirteen. Her father was the first to go, and after his death, Pelageya moved with young Masha to live with her eldest son’s family. However, life there was far from peaceful due to conflicts with the daughter-in-law, forcing them to take refuge in a small bathhouse.
As a child, Maria was known for her restless nature and eccentricities. She frequented the church, yet remained silent and solitary, never partaking in games or festivities. Her attire was always a tattered dress, discarded by someone else.
Divine providence seemed to guide her path, aware of her future fervour for God. Despite never having visited, Maria often envisioned the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery during her labours.
Lithograph of the Diveyevo Monastery, 1904
A year after her father’s passing, Maria’s mother died too. Her relatives, with whom she remained briefly, eventually forced her to leave. One summer, when a group of women and girls planned a pilgrimage to Sarov, Maria joined them and never returned home. Homeless and destitute, she wandered between Sarov, Diveyevo, and Ardatov — hungry, poorly clad, and often driven away.
Undeterred by weather or season, Maria travelled in all conditions — through freezing winters and scorching summers, across muddy waters and rainy autumns — wearing only bast shoes that were frequently torn and without socks. Once, during Holy Week’s muddy thaw, she trudged knee-deep through water mixed with dirt and snow towards Sarov. A man on a cart took pity on her and offered a ride, but she declined.
In summer, it seemed she lived in the woods; when she arrived at Diveyevo, her body was often covered in ticks and sores. She spent most of her time at the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery. Some nuns saw something extraordinary in her and provided clean clothes to replace her rags. Yet within days, Maria would return in tatters, bitten by dogs and beaten by cruel people.
Not all understood her spiritual journey; some nuns disliked her presence and complained to the local constable to rid them of this “filthy beggar.” Though he detained her, he found himself powerless against her apparent simplicity and released her.
Maria continued mingling with people, often exposing their hidden sins as if scolding them. This candidness earned her both admiration and animosity.
Blessed Maria of Diveyevo
Despite facing adversity, Maria never uttered a word of complaint or despair. Her life of devout humility and patience did not go unnoticed by the Almighty or the townsfolk. It dawned on them that whatever she foretold came true, and those who welcomed her into their homes received divine blessings.
One such instance involved a woman named Pelageya who had lost twelve children before they reached five years old. After two of her children died early in her marriage, Maria Ivanovna visited their village. She approached Pelageya’s window and sang a peculiar song: “Hen with feathered feet, bear children just a little bit.”
Surrounded by a group of women, Maria Ivanovna listened patiently as they remarked, “She has no children at all.” To this, she calmly responded, “Oh, she has many.” The women insisted, “No, she truly has none.” Maria Ivanovna explained, “The Lord has plenty of room.”
Maria Ivanovna received spiritual guidance from the blessed Praskovya Ivanovna, with whom she often sought counsel. Praskovya, sensing her end was near, would tell those close to her, “I am still at the loom, but another is already weaving; she is still walking, but soon she will sit.” Blessing Maria Ivanovna to remain at the monastery, she advised her, “Just don’t sit in my chair.” Maria lived in Praskovya’s cell for only two years.
Blessed Praskovya of Sarov
On the very day of Praskovya’s passing, Maria faced a small trial. Irritated by her peculiar ways, the nuns expelled her from the monastery, warning her not to return or they would involve the police. Maria said nothing in response; she turned and left.
Before Praskovya’s coffin was brought into the church, a peasant arrived at the monastery and exclaimed, “The servant of God you expelled just revealed my entire life and sins to me. Bring her back, or you will lose her forever.”
Messengers were immediately sent for Maria Ivanovna. She did not delay and returned to the monastery while Praskovya lay in her coffin in the church. Entering the room, she turned to the head sacristan nun, Zinovia, and said, “Lay me down like Pasha.”
From that moment on, Maria settled permanently in Diveyevo. Initially, she stayed with Nun Maria until the abbess provided her with a separate room. It was a cold and damp space, especially the floor, where she spent nearly eight years. Here, she eventually lost the use of her legs and developed severe rheumatism throughout her body.
Almost from her first year at the monastery, Pasha (later known as Dorothea in monastic life) was assigned to assist her. Initially reluctant, Pasha served Maria Ivanovna out of obedience. Pasha was deeply saddened to witness Maria Ivanovna’s gradual decline into a painful illness and loss of mobility, yet she could do nothing to alleviate it. Only when the number of visitors to the blessed woman became overwhelming did the abbess permit her to move to Pasha’s small house.
This modest dwelling stood by the gates, and as Soviet authorities noticed the growing crowd of visitors, they began persecuting Maria. Eventually, she was moved to a separate room within the almshouse where she lived until the monastery’s closure.
Blessed Maria Ivanovna with a sister of the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery
Maria Ivanovna spoke quickly and abundantly — sometimes eloquently and even in verse — and after 1917, her language grew harsh. So harsh that nuns would leave the room to avoid hearing it. Once, Praskovya’s cell attendant, Dunya, asked her, “Maria Ivanovna, why do you speak so harshly? Mother never did.” To this, Maria replied, “It was easy to be blessed under Nicholas II; try doing it under Soviet rule.”
The trials of her wandering life, illness, prayer, and receiving people were not enough for the blessed woman. One day, while Mother Dorothea went to fetch milk from a storeroom far from Maria Ivanovna’s cell, she left a hot samovar on the table. Upon returning, she heard Maria Ivanovna screaming frantically: “Help!”
In a moment of panic, a bewildered novice was frozen in fear. While she was away, Maria Ivanovna had attempted to pour herself a cup of tea. She managed to turn on the tap but couldn’t turn it off, leaving water to cascade onto her knees until Mother Dorothea returned.
On another occasion, Dorothea was utterly exhausted. She had spent the entire night helping Maria Ivanovna, who constantly needed assistance “just for a moment.” By dawn, Dorothea was so worn out that she confessed, “Do as you wish, Maria Ivanovna, but I simply can’t get up anymore.”
Maria Ivanovna fell silent. Suddenly, Dorothea was jolted awake by a terrible crash. In the darkness, Maria had tried to get down on her own, only to fall the wrong way, landing on her hand and breaking it. She cried out for help but refused to see a doctor for a splint. Instead, she rested her arm on a pillow and lay still for six months, never moving or turning. Throughout her ordeal, Maria bore her suffering without complaint. After half a year, her arm began to heal, albeit imperfectly.
Those who lived with Maria Ivanovna were trained in endurance by her example. Through obedience and prayer, what seemed an impossible feat became achievable. She even insisted that Mother Dorothea sleep only on one side; if she turned over, Maria would shout at her.
A true ascetic and a person of deep faith, Maria possessed the gifts of healing and foresight.
One nun suffered from eczema on her hands for three years. Despite treatment from top doctors in Moscow and Nizhny, her condition worsened. Her hands were covered in sores, driving her to despair and thoughts of leaving the monastery. In desperation, she sought Maria Ivanovna’s help. Maria suggested applying oil from a lamp. The nun hesitated — doctors had forbidden contact with oil or water — but trusted Maria’s faith and agreed. Miraculously, after two applications, even the scars vanished.
Icon of Blessed Maria of Diveyevo
Once, a desperate man came to Maria Ivanovna, lamenting his ruined life. She advised him to “set up an oil press.” He took her advice, pursued the venture, and soon turned his fortunes around.
Four years before Schema-nun Anatolia (Yakubovich) left her seclusion, Maria shouted at her: “Schema-nun pigsty, out of the cell!” Although Anatolia had been secluded with Father Anatoly’s blessing (the hermit Vasily of Sarov), she began seeing visions of her deceased sister. Frightened, she left her cell and started attending church. Maria remarked, “It’s not me driving her out; it’s the demons.”
A boy once visited Maria Ivanovna, and she remarked, “Here comes Father Alexei.” True enough, he later became Hieromonk Alexei of Sarov. He held Maria in high regard and visited often. One day he sat quietly before her until she said, “I’ve stopped eating meat and switched to cabbage and cucumbers with kvass. I’m healthier now.” He replied, “Alright.”
He realised it was about how, out of fear of getting sick, he had started eating meat. From that moment on, he gave it up.
Maria Ivanovna also foretold that Father Eugene would be ordained in Sarov. Trusting her completely, he shared this news widely. However, he was suddenly summoned to Diveyevo instead. This upset Mother Dorothea, Maria’s attendant, but the ordination was in Diveyevo. When Dorothea reported this to Maria Ivanovna, she laughed and said, “What difference does it make? Isn’t this place as sacred as Sarov? The very cell and belongings of the saint are right here.”
A certain lady from Murom once visited the blessed Maria Ivanovna. As soon as she entered, Maria remarked, “Madam, you smoke like a chimney.” The woman had indeed been puffing away for twenty-five years. Tears welled up in her eyes as she admitted, “I simply can’t quit; I even smoke at night and before church.”
“Take her tobacco, Dorothea, and toss it into the fire,” Maria instructed. Dorothea obliged, taking the elegant cigarette case and matches, and tossing them into the stove. A month later, Mother Dorothea received a letter and a dress stitched in gratitude. The lady wrote that she no longer craved cigarettes; it was as if a burden had been lifted.
Rimma Ivanovna Dolganova had long suffered from a peculiar affliction: she would collapse before sacred objects and couldn’t partake in communion. She implored Maria to let her join the monastery. “Well, we don’t need such cases here,” Maria replied. “Will I ever be cured?” Rimma asked hopefully. “You’ll find peace before you pass,” Maria assured her. That very night, Rimma fell ill with scarlet fever and checked herself into hospital, declaring she wouldn’t return. She passed away shortly after, freed from her torment.
On another occasion, an educated woman visited Maria Ivanovna with her two sons. Maria immediately shouted, “Dorothea, Dorothea, bring two crosses and put them on.” Dorothea protested, “Why do they need crosses? They’ve just taken communion.” But Maria insisted, “Crosses, crosses, put them on!” Dorothea fetched two crosses, unbuttoned the boys’ jackets, and found no crosses. The woman was embarrassed when Dorothea asked how she had allowed them to take communion without them. She mumbled that she had removed the crosses for the journey to avoid discomfort for the children.
A nun soon followed. “Why are you wearing the schema? Take it off, put on a kerchief and bast shoes, and put a cross on her,” Maria commanded. With trepidation, Mother Dorothea approached the nun and discovered she was without a cross. The nun explained she had lost it during her travels.
On 31 December 1926, as the new year approached, Maria ominously declared, “The old women will start dying... What a year is coming, what a hard year — Elijah and Enoch are already walking the earth.” True to her words, from 1 January for two weeks straight, there were daily funerals, sometimes more than one.
During the Week of the Publican and Pharisee, officials arrived to disband Sarov, a process that dragged on until the fourth week of Lent. Evicting the monks proved challenging; most had individual cells with separate entrances and multiple keys. Today they’d expel a monk; tomorrow he’d return and lock himself in again. Church services continued unabated. Finally, on Monday of the Cross Veneration Week, a large contingent of officials gathered all the sacred relics: the miraculous icon “The Life-Giving Spring,” the coffin where Saint Seraphim’s relics had rested for seventy years underground, the cypress coffin from which his remains were removed, and other holy items. They piled everything together, built a bonfire, and set it all ablaze.
Icon of the Mother of God “The Life-Giving Spring”, Russia, mid-19th century
In a clandestine operation, the relics of Saint Seraphim were placed in a blue prosphora box and sealed. To conceal their destination, the group split into four teams, each setting off in different directions on sledges. The relics made their way to Arzamas, stopping overnight in the village of Onuchino to rest and feed the horses. As the sleigh carrying the sacred remains entered the village of Kremenki, the church bell tolled ominously. The relics were bound for Moscow. After the monastery was ransacked, services in Sarov ceased, and the monks dispersed.
Following Easter, authorities arrived in Diveyevo. They searched throughout the monastery, cataloguing state property and inspecting personal belongings. During these trying times, Sonya Bulgakova, who would later become Sister Seraphima, sought counsel from Maria Ivanovna. The blessed woman sat serenely, exuding calm.
“Maria Ivanovna, will we live peacefully again?” Sonya asked.
“We will,” Maria replied.
“For how long?”
“Three months.”
The officials eventually departed, and life resumed its course. True to Maria’s words, exactly three months later, on the eve of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 7/20 September 1927, everyone was instructed to leave the monastery.
With the blessing of Bishop Barnabas, a cell was constructed for Maria Ivanovna in the village of Puzo. She was taken there immediately after the monastery’s closure. Valentina Dolganova oversaw the arrangements, ensuring that no one could disturb the blessed woman. Maria Ivanovna stayed in Puzo for about three months.
Blessed Maria
When Abbess Alexandra settled in Murom, Mother Dorothea visited her.
“Why did you send Maria Ivanovna into the world? Bring her back,” the abbess insisted.
Mother Dorothea went to fetch her.
“Maria Ivanovna, will you come with me?”
“I will,” she agreed.
They laid her on a cart, covered her with a red blanket, and brought her to Elizarovo. There she remained until spring, after which she was moved to Diveyevo, first to stay with a deaf-mute brother and sister, and in 1930 to a farm near the village of Pochinok. Finally, she settled in Cherevatovo, where she passed away on 26 August/8 September 1931.
Maria Ivanovna often spoke to many about their future lives. Once, someone challenged her: “You always say ‘the monastery!’ There won’t be a monastery!”
“There will be! There will be! There will be!” she insisted passionately, banging on the table so hard that she bruised her hand. A cushion was placed under her hand to ease the pain.
She assigned future duties to all the sisters in the anticipated monastery: some would rake hay, and others clean ditches. Yet she never mentioned anything to Sonya Bulgakova. Curious, Sonya asked one day:
“Maria Ivanovna, will I live to see the monastery?”
“You will,” Maria replied softly, gripping Sonya’s hand firmly against the table.
Before her death, Maria Ivanovna instructed her close sisters on how many kathismas they should read for her by the fortieth day. Everything transpired as she foretold. When Sonya Bulgakova visited her for the last time in October 1930, Maria told her, “You won’t read a single kathisma for me.” Indeed, Sonya read none but remembered this on the fortieth day.
Maria Ivanovna was laid to rest in a village cemetery. This holy elder was venerated as a local saint in July 2004 during celebrations marking the 250th anniversary of Saint Seraphim of Sarov’s birth. She was canonized for all-Church veneration in October of that year. Today, the revered relics of Saint Maria Ivanovna, discovered on 14 September 2004 at the cemetery in Bolshoye Cherevatovo, rest in the Kazan Church of the Seraphim-Diveyevo Monastery alongside those of Saints Pelagia and Paraskeva of Diveyevo.
Reliquary with the relics of Blessed Maria of Diveyevo
