In the city of Ankara, in Galatia, there once lived a monk. We don’t know when he lived. We don’t even know his name. The little we do know about him is that he came from the army, lived near the bishop of the city and was so philanthropic and charitable that he’d even go round at night to help those in need. The clothing he wore wasn’t worth a mite and his food was commensurate. When he was given books, he’d sell them straight away and give the proceeds to the poor. Even if he’d kept the books, he wouldn’t have read them, because his constant involvement with charity precluded any ‘poring over codices’. He hurried around everywhere, to prisons, to hospital ...





















