Saint Theodora of Alexandria

In the depth of her sorrow, which made her seek a thousand ways to expiate her crime, she decided to dress in men's clothing and go to present herself at a monastery, eighteen miles from the city, to end her days there in the arduous exercises of penance. Before granting her entry, she was told that she must spend the night at the gate, to test herself and also to give the monks sure signs of her fervor. She accepted this condition and fulfilled it with invincible courage. The next day, the superior examined her regarding her vocation, and, having admitted her, believing her to be a man, he said to her: "Do not think, my brother, that you are entering here to be at your ease and without work; you will live here under the yoke of obedience, and you will render to the monks all the services that will be necessary for them, not only within the monastery, but also outside, where you will be needed. You will cultivate the trees and sow the vegetables; you will carry water to all the regular places; you will water the garden and you will often make arduous journeys to the city. All these duties will exempt you neither from fasting, nor from prayer, nor from being present in the church day and night, nor from the other mortifications that we practice here." Theodore, who regarded all this as delights for the soul, in comparison to what she believed she deserved for her fault, promised with a glad heart to do punctually everything that had been told to her: she was thus received and remained in this holy house.

Not only was she faithful to her word, but she did much more than was required of her; for she was tireless in her work and continually chastised her body with very rigorous austerities: at first, she ate only once a day, then she ate only every other day; finally, having made a habit of abstinence, she asked her superior for permission to eat only once a week; but, to expiate the crime she had committed on her body more and more, she added to her immense labors and excessive fasts the pain of a harsh hair shirt. Her holiness shone even more through some miracles that divine Providence gave her the power to perform. There was a lake near the monastery where a crocodile would retreat, often devouring passersby; this had forced the prefect of Alexandria to station sentries in the vicinity to prevent people from taking their path through that place. The inhabitants were extremely inconvenienced by it. The prefect, having heard the story of the virtue of Theodora, who was compared to the angels, so filled was she with divine grace, had her brought to him, and, having a pitcher given to her, commanded her to go and fetch water from the lake. Everyone tried to dissuade her, telling her that she was going to expose herself to death; but, feeling strengthened by a firm trust in God, she obeyed blindly. As soon as she appeared by the lake, a wonderful thing happened: the crocodile took her on its back, carried her over the water, and when she had filled her vessel, it carried her back to land without having done her any harm. The Saint then reproached this animal for the cruelties it had exercised on many people, and, at that very hour, made it expire at her feet. Another time, as the Saint was traveling by night to a monastery through a forest filled with wild beasts, one of these animals appeared before her to serve as her guide and led her safely to the monastery. But there it threw itself upon the porter to devour him; the Saint delivered him; then, as it had received several wounds, she took a little oil which she placed upon them, and immediately it was perfectly healed. The beast died on the spot. These wonders show that, from a great sinner, she had become a true penitent. The demon, who had uselessly employed a thousand stratagems to ruin her, appeared to her visibly and said to her, while threatening her, that he would not cease to wage a cruel war against her until he had made her fall into the trap. Indeed, it was not long before he stirred up dangerous persecutions against her.

The superior had sent her to the city with camels to procure the monastery's supply of wheat; having been overtaken by night, she lay down at the feet of her camels. There, a young girl tempted by the demon came to find her, believing her to be a man, and solicited her to sin; later, this libertine having had a child, accused T heodore, un enfant Child wrongly attributed to Theodore, who later became abbot of the monastery. who was immediately denounced to her superior. It was a ruse of Satan, so that the Saint, by revealing who she was to justify herself, would be forced to abandon the convent where she was performing such harsh penance. But she had the courage to keep her secret inviolably, and let it be believed that she was guilty of the crime of which she was accused. She was therefore shamefully driven from the monastery, and was permitted to build a poor hut in the vicinity to withdraw. They brought her the child; she received it without contradiction, and fed it with a little ewe's milk that the shepherds gave her as alms, and also clothed it in poor swaddling clothes that she made herself from wool she begged for. Nothing was more worthy of compassion than the state of disgrace and suffering in which she lived. She remained there, however, for seven whole years, without ever complaining or opening her mouth to make her innocence known, rejoicing, on the contrary, to suffer all these affronts to expiate the injury she had done to her husband. She lived only on wild herbs and a little water that she went to draw from the lake of which we have spoken. Her eyes never ceased to shed tears. She remained exposed to all the rigors of the seasons. Sometimes her body was scorched by the heat of the sun, sometimes it was frozen by the snows and rains of winter, sometimes it was half-dead from her long vigils and continuous fasts, and her face became so disfigured that she was unrecognizable. However, she never wanted to move away from the monastery, always hoping to return there to end her days in penance; and this is what the demon strove to prevent by his wiles, setting new traps for her every day, which, however, did not have the success that his malice led him to hope for. Theodore had already met her husband several times when she went through the city, and she had resisted all the tenderness of her heart so as not to make herself known to him. The demon tried to catch her in this area. He appeared to her in the guise of that dear husband, and, employing tears, sighs, complaints, and reproaches, with the most pressing terms one could imagine, he solicited her to return to her home to spend the rest of their lives together. But Theodore discovered his snares and avoided them through her perseverance. He then had recourse to force and presented himself to her in the guise of a troop of ferocious beasts that made as if to devour her if she did not take flight; but she remained firm and intrepid, without ever leaving her place. He came to blows, and treated her so cruelly that he left her covered in wounds and more dead than alive; she still despised his fury. Finally, he brought her gold and silver and served her exquisite dishes; but she always mocked his impious and malicious illusions.

After seven years, she was permitted to return to the monastery, on the condition, however, that she would no longer hold any office and would remain locked in a cell. And she lived there for two more years in rigorous abstinence and continuous application to God. The child of whom we have spoken was placed with her, so that she might always take care of him, and she instructed him so well in virtue that, later, he became a monk in the same monastery, and was finally e lected a élu abbé Child wrongly attributed to Theodore, who later became abbot of the monastery. bbot for his extraordinary merit. The superior, wishing to know what lessons she gave to this child, sent some brothers to listen, at the door of her cell, to what she was saying to him, and they heard this beautiful instruction:

"My dear child, the time of my death being near, I will soon leave you; but I leave you in the hands of a good father, who is God, father of all orphans; I commend you to holy Providence. I also hope that the superior of the monastery will not lack charity toward you and even that the religious will have kindness for you. Do not ask what your birth is: there is no true nobility other than that which one acquires through virtue. Do not look at the honor of men: those who are the most honored are not the most happy. On the contrary, Jesus Christ said that it was a beatitude to suffer, for his love, insults, reproaches, ignominies, and false testimonies, which steal our reputation. If you want others to have some regard for you, have it first for them. Flee sleep as much as it is possible for you. Embrace a way of life that is austere and hard on the body; let your clothes be rough and more suited to afflict your flesh than to flatter it. Be present punctually at all the assemblies of the religious to pray with them. Never cause pain to anyone. When you are questioned, answer only with your eyes cast down to the ground. Do not mock the faults of others. Groan incessantly inwardly before God, if you wish to have a share in his consolations. Pray with fervor for those you know to have fallen into some sin. Never refuse to assist the infirm; run to them with eagerness. Never grow weary on the path of perfection. Render service to your neighbor as if he were your master, so that you may be the friend of Jesus Christ, who clothed himself for you in the form of a servant. Always be in prayer, for fear that you might fall into temptation; if it presents itself, resist it generously; and, when it has passed, do not cease to pray for that reason, for fear that another time you might be defeated. If you practice these maxims, my dear child, I assure you that God will always come to your aid to reach out his hand to you, so that you may triumph over all your enemies."

Some time after this pious exhortation, she passed quietly from this life to a better one. When she expired, the abbot learned by revelation who she was and the glory she enjoyed in heaven. Her husband, by divine inspirat Son mari Husband of Theodora who eventually became a monk in the same monastery as her. ion, went to the monastery to see his dear Theodora; he became a monk in the same place, and spent the rest of his days in his wife's cell, with whom he was also buried.

She is sometimes depicted with a demon before her, taking her hands as if to cajole her or snatch her ring: this is a way of indicating that after an exemplary life in marriage for several years, she allowed herself to be led into adultery once.

We have drawn this story from Metaphrastes, and it is reported in volume V of Surius Surius Hagiographer and compiler of saints' lives. .