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.
Later on, I studied the Kant-Laplace, Jeans-Jeffreys and other theories of the Universe. And here I am today, not able to liken Baba Vanga to anything but a such a small window, that lets in a ray of light from that all-encompassing eternity where past, present and future are all the same. Baba Vanga is a voice. But we will never know who speaks through it. Until yesterday, the voice was on this side of the window. From today, it will talk to us from the other side, behind the window. But who will hear it then? Will we be able to ever apologize to this voice for the suffering we have inflicted upon it. For our disbelief in it. For the unseemly suspicion. Or for the fact we used to question it where a dissident was hiding, or where the wealth of our grandfather was buried, or who our husband was cheating on us with. While we never asked it to open our eyes to truth that could make us better people. What aliens are we babbling about? What flying saucers are we raving about, when we can’t even accept Baba Vanga in any other way than as a psychic, a prophetess, an extra-sense, a miracle, a phenomenon?
I know many good people who were afraid to go to Baba Vanga. But what other than fear can we call our best attitude towards her? I myself feel greater sorrow and fear from the fact that Baba Vanga is gone. I cannot imagine the solitude that will now settle in the heart of the Kozhuh volcano mountain and within our own hearts. Some will quiet down and others will rush to praise her. But let us all remember this lesson we learned from her: forced all the time to listen to the pain and sufferings of others, called upon to tell the truth in an age of aggressive lies, surrounded by disbelief, arrogant curiosity and ingratitude – Baba Vanga has never been a voice of despair.
Baba Vanga Books
On this link you can see the most popular Bulgarian books written on Baba Vanga – http://books.balkanatolia.com
Under “search” simply copy and paste “Баба Ванга” – Baba Vanga in Cyrilic alphabet.