The monks keep unceasing watch, as sentries, at hours when I sleep, ever looking for the coming of the Lord. And indeed He does come to them, and they ring bells and cry aloud “Hosanna”. Honor to the vigilant, who will see the light from the East break across the earth. The monks do combat with demons that never reach me because they are stopped. St. Nikolai likened the monks to ninja among us. Angels invisibly surround them. When they do battle, the banners stretch to Heaven, and the trumpets echo in the distance. The demons are shaken and crumble and are driven back. The field is full of incense, dispelling the smoke of the enemy. God fights for his people. The archangels are mighty and their countenance is fierce. The monks, both men and women, are the brave ‘men’ who make a human wall, and I am a child behind them; therefore I call them “father” and “mother”.