The Panagia's Deer
- The Orthodox Ethos Team
- 4 hours ago
- 5 min read
The following account is taken from the new publication of Uncut Mountain Press, Miracles and Appearances of the Virgin Mary, now available here.
The Monastery of Panagia of Mesovouni was hidden, during the years of Turkish rule, behind a high mountain, to the left of the road that goes from the Thessalian plain to Arta. Its path was dangerous; only goats and local villagers could cross it. Everyone spoke of the old glory of the monastery and its splendor. In the dark years of slavery, however, it too was steeped in poverty.
The monastery celebrated its feast day every year on September 8th, the Nativity of the Theotokos. It was the most splendid festival in the region of Argithea. And the monks had the custom of slaughtering a calf, boiling it in the cauldrons of the kitchen, and after the church service, distributing it as a blessing to the faithful.
The annual festival had for years ceased to be celebrated with splendor. The monastery did not even have an animal to offer. This saddened many. They considered it bad luck, as well as contempt for the Panagia. “What can we do?” the abbot would respond to them. “Not even a rooster is left.”
Among those who were saddened was an old monk, white-bearded, approaching eighty years of age. “Perform your miracle, my Panagia!” he pleaded day and night to the Theotokos. “Perform any miracle, to show your people that you are near them, so they do not lose their faith in you.”
Dawn was breaking on the feast of the Dormition. The old monk was resting in his cell when suddenly a vision shook him. Before the semantron for Matins sounded, he got up and went to the abbot. He knocked loudly on the door.
“What brings you here at such an hour, blessed one?”
“My Elder, I saw a living and divine vision. A little while ago, my cell was illuminated by an abundant light. Before I could fully recover, I saw the Panagia standing before me. She looked at me sternly, but also with love. She seemed pained, but also full of serenity. I then heard her say to me, ‘Tell the abbot and the brothers to celebrate my memory festively this year. For the worst of what this people has lost is their faith. Let the villages gather for my sake, and I will be with them.’ Immediately afterwards, she disappeared.”
The abbot heard the vision with attention, but also with hesitation. Then he set off for the church.
From the nearby village, several pilgrims had come. By word of mouth, the monk’s vision became known, and soon it was also known in the other villages of the region. The holiness of his life was a reliable testimony. Even the bishop held him as an example.
Some approached the abbot and begged him to carry out the will of the Theotokos, since she had made it known in such a vivid way. So, a week after the leave-taking of the Dormition, on the feast of the Beheading of the Honorable Forerunner, monks and villagers heard from the abbot’s mouth the joyful news:
“By the grace and blessing of the Panagia, our monastery will have a splendid festival this year, such as has not been held for many years. However, you know that times are difficult and the monastery is poor. Therefore, this time we will not have a slaughtered animal. But we will gather to celebrate.”
The news immediately fluttered over mountains and plains; it became known in all the surrounding villages. At last, they would again have the splendid festival of the Panagia. They would gather again under her grace. It could only be for good. Perhaps God was preparing better days for the nation and for everyone.
From the very eve of the feast, the whole plateau to the right of the monastery began to fill with people. Groups upon groups of pilgrims arrived from the surrounding villages, through the steep slopes and forests. All the priests of the villages also came, and a magnificent liturgy took place. The people had spread out on the slopes because they could not fit in the small church. The service would be very long. At the end, nine priests, splendidly robed, would come out with the icon of the Panagia for the Artoklasia (the service of the breaking of bread).
Suddenly, while everyone was sitting and waiting, they heard a commotion from the slope of the wooded hill. They then turned and saw a deer approaching boldly and with a swift pace. It was so unexpected that no one thought to do anything. As if guided by an invisible hand, it passed through the crowd and bounded through the main gate. Then, as if it were an animal of the monastery that knew its way around, it proceeded directly to the kitchen. There it stopped.
The monk who was there serving the pilgrims did not know what to do. First of all, he gave it water. The deer drank with all its soul. After quenching its thirst, it lay down in a corner and stretched out its neck in such a way, as if offering itself for a sacrifice.
“ A gift from the Panagia!” said the older people. She had, after all, announced it through the old monk. The abbot was immediately notified. He too agreed that they should slaughter the deer and distribute it to the people as a blessing from the Panagia.
And so it happened. That year, all the pilgrims received their share at noon. They experienced an undeniable miracle. Hundreds of eyes saw it. Hundreds of mouths confessed it. The news, like lightning, electrified the villages of Argithea.
Since then, every year on the feast day of the Panagia, September 8, a deer always came before the monastery gate. No one saw it wandering in the mountains beforehand. But it always came on its day, at its hour, to its place, in her grace. It would cool off, rest, and then lie down on the ground and offer its neck to the knife.
Years later, the Turks left the country. The monks who first witnessed the miracle also died. Others took their place. The miracle, however, continued.
One year, at the festival, the deer was nowhere to be seen. Matins finished, they entered the liturgy, and the people began to worry.
“Our sins are to blame!” said the pilgrims.
“People have begun to stray again, to lose their faith,” others added.
But just as the Cherubic Hymn began, there was the deer again. The crowd was relieved. The monk, who was waiting with the knife in his hand, breathed a sigh of relief. The deer, as if lost, looked right and left fearfully, and then headed for the monastery. It arrived at the gate sweating and panting. The monk and the cooks immediately grabbed it and slaughtered it. They would barely have time to prepare it for noon.
“The deer will not come again,” said a hundred-year-old shepherd. “We showed ourselves hard-hearted. We only looked after our own convenience. We didn’t let it rest and quench its thirst, but led it immediately to slaughter. We sinned.”
No one paid attention to the elder’s words. But when the next year the deer did not appear at all, then they understood they were at fault. Since then, the deer never appeared again.
Years passed. Other antichrists came, who destroyed the monastery and exterminated the monks. Today, nothing remains of the old magnificent monastery except for the small church and the ruined kitchen. And yet, every year, on September 8, the villages of Argithea gather there and celebrate her grace. And they wait for the deer to reappear as in the old days—a miracle of the Panagia of Mesovouni to the enslaved nation.
Miracles and Appearances of the Virgin Mary, Uncut Mountain Press, 2025, pp. 160-164.
