Abba Doulas, the disciple of Abba Bessarion, said, “Once, while we were traveling along the seashore, I became very thirsty and said to Abba Bessarion, ‘Abba, I am very thirsty.’ The elder prayed and said to me, ‘Drink from the sea.’ The water became sweet, and I drank. I also drew some into a vessel in case I became thirsty later. When the elder saw it, he said to me, ‘Why did you draw water?’ I said to him, ‘Forgive me, in case I become thirsty later.’ The elder said, ‘God is here, and God is everywhere.’”
At another time, when necessity arose, Abba Bessarion prayed and crossed the River Chrysoroas on foot. I was amazed, bowed down before him, and said, “How did your feet feel as you walked in the water?” The elder said, “Up to my ankles I felt the water, but the rest was solid.”
Another time, as we were going to visit an elder, the sun was about to set. The elder prayed and said, “I beg You, Lord, let the sun stand still until I reach Your servant.” And so it happened.
Abba Doulas said, “Another time I came to Abba Bessarion’s cell and found him standing in prayer with his hands stretched out toward heaven. He remained like this for fourteen days. Afterward he called me and said, ‘Follow me.’ We went out into the desert. When I became thirsty, I said, ‘Abba, I am thirsty.’ The elder took my sheepskin, went about a stone’s throw away, prayed, and brought it back to me full of water. As we walked, we came to a cave. We entered and found a brother sitting there making a rope. He did not look up at us, greet us, or wish to speak with us at all. The elder said to me, ‘Let us go from here. Perhaps the elder is not assured that he should speak with us.’ We went on to Lyco until we came to Abba John. After greeting him, we prayed, and then they sat and spoke about the vision Abba Bessarion had seen. Abba Bessarion said, ‘A decree has gone out that the temples are to be destroyed.’ And so it happened: they were destroyed. On our return we came again to the cave where we had seen the brother. The elder said to me, ‘Let us go in to him. Perhaps God has assured him that he should speak with us.’ We entered and found him dead. The elder said to me, ‘Come, brother, let us prepare his body, for this is why God sent us here.’ As we prepared the body for burial, we found that by nature the person was a woman. The elder marveled and said, ‘See how women too wrestle Satan down, while we behave shamefully in the cities.’ We glorified God, the protector of those who love Him, and departed from there.”
Once a man possessed by a demon came to Scetis, and prayer was made for him in the church, but the demon did not leave him because it was stubborn. The clergy said, “What can we do against this demon? No one can cast it out except Abba Bessarion, and if we ask him, he will not come to the church for this. So let us do this: since he comes to church before everyone else, let us make the afflicted man sleep in his place, and when he comes in the morning let us stand for prayer and say to him, ‘Wake the brother too, Abba.’” They did so. When the elder came in the morning, they stood for prayer and said to him, “Wake the brother too.” The elder said to him, “Get up and go outside.” Immediately the demon went out of him, and from that hour he was healed.
Abba Bessarion said, “For forty days and nights I remained among thorns, standing and not sleeping.”
A brother who had sinned was being expelled from the church by the presbyter. Abba Bessarion got up and went out with him, saying, “I too am a sinner.”
The same Abba Bessarion said, “For forty years I did not lie down on my side, but slept sitting or standing.”
He also said, “When you are at peace and are not being fought, then humble yourself all the more, lest an alien joy enter and we boast and be handed over to battle. For often, because of our weakness, God does not permit us to be handed over to battle, lest we perish.”
A brother living with other brothers asked Abba Bessarion, “What should I do?” The elder said to him, “Be silent, and do not measure yourself.”
As Abba Bessarion was dying, he said, “A monk ought to be like the cherubim and the seraphim: all eye.”
The disciples of Abba Bessarion said that his life had been like that of a bird of the air, a creature that swims, or a land animal. He passed the whole time of his life without disturbance and without care. No concern for a house occupied him; no desire for places seemed to hold his soul; there was no indulgence in luxury, no possession of dwellings, no carrying about of books. Rather, he appeared entirely free from the passions of the body, nourished by hope for the things to come and fortified by faith. Like a captive he endured wandering here and there, remaining in cold and nakedness and scorched by the sun, always in the open air. He wandered on the cliffs of the deserts and often chose to be carried about through the broad, uninhabited stretches of sand as though on the sea. If he happened to come to gentler places where monks of the same way of life lived together, he would sit outside the gates and weep, lamenting like someone shipwrecked and cast ashore. If one of the brothers came out and found him sitting like a beggar, like one of the poor of the world, he would approach compassionately and say, ‘Why are you weeping, man? If you need any necessity, you will receive as much as we can give. Only come inside, share our table, and be comforted.’ But he would answer that he could not remain under a roof until he found the possessions of his own house, saying that he had lost great wealth in many ways. ‘I fell among pirates, suffered shipwreck, and fell from my noble rank; I became unknown after being renowned.’ If the brother was moved by his words, went in, brought a piece of bread, and gave it to him saying, ‘Take this, Father. God will restore the other things you speak of—your homeland, family, and wealth,’ he would grieve still more and cry out loudly, ‘I cannot say whether I shall be able to find what I seek after losing it. Instead I will endure still greater things, facing danger of death every day and having no respite from my immeasurable troubles. I must continually wander and finish my course.’