Northwest of Romania - A Geography of the spirit
Northwest Romania is not merely a geographical region, but an unseen map of the spirit. Upon these gentle hills and within the dense forests, history has interwoven itself with mystery, and the stones of ancient monasteries still echo with monastic prayers.
King Ladislaus, a saint in Catholic tradition, was one of the great spiritual founders of these lands. It is said that he built monasteries and churches not only from stone but from faith itself, bringing a ray of medieval light to Northern Transylvania, where knighthood and prayer walked hand in hand.
In the village of Pomi, in Satu Mare County, legend tells of a secluded hill where, once upon a time, monks had their secret place. There, at the forest’s edge, where the sky bends down to the earth, was a sanctuary of prayer and hesychia—a deep silence beyond the world. My fellow villagers still speak of that place in whispers, and sometimes, at dusk, it is said that a small bell can be heard—like a sign that the spirits have not abandoned this land.
Yet I also wish to bring before the readers the story of Uncle Mihai from Prilog.
I have read some powerful articles about him, and I will now weave them into this narrative.
Mihai Neamtu was born on October 12, 1924, in the village of Prilog, Satu Mare County. For many, he was not simply a monk, but a messenger of God.
In dark times, when monasteries were persecuted and prayers whispered in fear, he never lost his faith. Expelled from Bixad Monastery by the communist regime, he did not retreat into hiding; instead, he descended among the people. Through forests and villages, through peasants’ courtyards and hospital wards, he traveled with a satchel full of blessed herbs and a heart full of prayer.
He asked for nothing. He worked no miracles with trumpets or fanfare. Yet those who came to him left transformed, healed, calmed, their souls unburdened. It is said he helped over a million people, without money, without glory, only with the gift given from above.
Some mothers in TaraOasului still speak of how he saved their children. Other women from Cluj, Baia Mare, and Oradea remember his warm voice, saying:
“Illness is not from God, but healing is. Pray and drink this tea, but don’t forget the doctor. God works through them too.”
He died in silence, just as he lived. But in many hearts, Uncle Mihai remains alive, a living memory of what faith, humility, and love for people truly mean.
In a rushed and restless world, his story is a sacred reminder that sometimes, the greatest miracles are worked in silence, on the edge of a forest, in a humble cup of tea, and in a prayer whispered from the heart.
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