Baba Vanga – a story by Lyubomir Levchev – famous Bulgarian writer and poet
The most incredible, the most amazing thing I have come across, that’s Baba Vanga. More than 20 years of pure and priceless friendship with her have convinced me in this. She can’t fit in our definitions. She is a sole witness of what is yet to happen. And the laws we use do not acknowledge that sole witness.
Those who naively try to present her as a saint are immediately confronted with the canons of church. There is no such law that can accommodate Baba Vanga. Even more pathetic are the scientists who try to deny her capabilities. In front of Baba Vanga we all stand as we do in front of truth. Truth is always much bigger than us and we can never encompass it in its entirety. What has always struck me is the simplicity and ordinariness of the physical person that Baba Vanga was. We came into contact through her own will. At our first meeting I told her that I would never ask her anything about myself but that I was ready to hear anything she wished to tell me, even the worst.
I never violated this rule. And more than once she alerted me to future dangers, casting a shadow upon me. She had saved my life. The abrupt honesty and at the same time the delicacy of her reproaches are unsurpassed. This brings to my mind the words of Pascal, who said that truth always reproached us. I will stop with my personal memories before I have even started, because my endless gratitude could only belittle the idea of Baba Vanga. She doesn’t need my testimonies, and I only give them for the sake of those who don’t know her, would never meet her and can only comprehend her through a nebula of mystic legends. As a small child, I imagined the stars were small circular windows, letting in the light of something eternally beautiful, blissful and ethereal.