The timber beams snap, the planks shatter, and the blast of the shell tears the Izotov family apart. Finn is at home, right in the centre of the explosion. The elders say they scrape the bodies from the ruins with great effort, yet Finn emerges alive, unscathed except for a sootblackened cross stitched onto his bare chest. They strip the cross away, saying it is a mark of sin. Finn is about five years old.
A distant relative, his greataunt Agatha, takes him in. Ten years later, long after the war, a terrible fire engulfs the village of Ashbrook when lightning strikes the lightning rod of the local electricity substation. The houses on the righthand side of Main Street ignite and the flames devour everything. People flee, but livestock and outbuildings are lost in the inferno.
Firefighters arrive, contain the blaze, yet half the street remains a charred wasteland. As the last sparks die and they coil up their hoses, they stare at the scene in disbelief. Every house in the row is gutted, except one low, squat cottage that the fire seems to have skirted. Perhaps its because of its shape, they mutter, but the villagers are not satisfied. The cottage belongs to greataunt Agatha, where the young Finn still lives. Rumour spreads that Finn is cursed.
Agatha, a devout old woman, teaches Finn to pray. Hidden behind the curtains, icons sit in a corner of the cottage, and the prayers are whispered, secret, and rarely heard by anyone else. She bakes biscuits for the church in the neighbouring parish and goes there often, with Finn at her side. The church pays a modest stipend for her work, and that, together with a few chickens, keeps them fed.
Finn is sent to the village school, but he does not stay long; he proves unable to learn. He sits at the back desk, eyes wide, smiling as if marveling at the world, yet he does nothing with the lessons, hears nothing, absorbs nothing. He has blond hair crowned with a wild tuft. Agatha jokes that God watches over him from that very spot.
One summer, the whole village celebrates a river fair. A halffinished raft carrying five boys breaks away. Mothers scream from the bank while the men scramble to stop the raft and rescue the children. Agatha rushes to the water because Finn is on the raft.
Your idiot let the raft go, shouts one mother at Agatha.
Quiet, Tabitha, be quiet, Agatha warns, pray instead and be thankful Finn is there. God will save him and take you with him.
The raft capsizes. As Finn begins to sink, he sees his mothers face smiling, reaching out his hand, and he grabs it. The boys are hauled to safety.
Agatha dies young. Finn stays in the village, first working as a shepherd and then as a night watchman. He spends his wages quickly, buying sweets and rolls at the shop and handing them out to anyone who asks. He visits sick and elderly neighbours, buying them whatever they need and often giving from his own pocket. When asked what hell eat himself, he says, God will provide; Ill never go hungry. And God indeed provides. Households feed him, he shares what he can, and his generosity never wanes.
Eventually his wages are only partially paid; the village clerk buys groceries and hands them to him in instalments, which Finn still distributes generously. He does his work with zeal. When he lies on his back in the field and closes his eyes to the sun, he again sees his mothers apparition, who tells him, You shall never be killed or maimed, Finn; you will bring joy to people.
People in the village are varied, but they all know Finns steadfast, selfless spirit. A local farmer, Isaac Chapman, hires him to help build his new house, paying in food. He loads Finn with the heaviest tasks. Finn grows thin, his skin darkens, his back hunches. The villagers sound the alarm, but Chapman merely says, Ill pay him later; he wants the work. Then Finn disappears. No one can find him.
When Aunt Nora drags the village constable to Chapmans farm, they discover Finn collapsed, exhausted and feverish. An ambulance rushes him away. Chapman shouts hes not to blame, insisting he was almost nursing Finn back to health. Finn suffers from peritonitis; surgeons operate and, miraculously, save his life.
A few weeks later, while repairing a combine harvester, Chapman is pulled into the threshing mechanism and almost dies. He survives, but is left permanently disabled. Another incident involves a drunk local, Karl, who tries to help Finn by pouring him drink and teasing him. Karls reckless behaviour leads to his own drowning in the village pond.
Finn continues as a watchman. One spring, as winter wheat turns into a rolling green sea, a delegation from the district arrives to inspect the collective farm. Finn, nervous, blocks their entry, waves his stick, bangs on their trucks, and a scandal erupts. The collective farms director, Mr. Sinclair, explodes with anger.
Enough! Hes a fool, he roars. Ill replace him with a proper guard.
His deputy, Valerie Crawford, pleads, Maybe we shouldnt, Mr. Sinclair. Hes cursed, you know. Since he started guarding those fields, our harvests have been recordbreaking for four years straight.
Fire him! Im done with his fairy tales! Sinclair snaps.
Finn is dismissed. A sudden frost hits that night and the winter crops die. Unemployed, Finns neighbours tell the village vicar, Father William, about him. Father William, who is restoring a halfruined chapel in the nearby hamlet of St. Giles, invites Finn for confession and repentance. He then appoints Finn as his assistant in the church.
Finn starts as a handyman on the building crew. When the chapel nears completion, he takes charge of cleaning. He scrubs walls, polishes the stairs, hammers the floorboards until they shine like mirrors. Father William cant stop praising him: Such cleanliness has not been seen since the chapels dedication.
Finns prayers are so sincere that parishioners stare at the icons with wide eyes, whispering their own devotions. His swift, delicate brushstrokes in the baptismal font resemble fluttering doves, and his unruly tuft seems to bow in reverence alongside the priest.
Word of Finn spreads through the countryside. Folks speak of a man forever protected by God, of punishments befalling anyone who harms him, of his nearsaintliness. Pilgrims begin to visit the chapel just to glimpse Saint Finn, to shake his hand, or even to be baptised by him. Wealthy ladies and philanthropists arrive, funding further restoration. The chapel is refurbished, fitted with electric lighting, a paved walk, and a modest car park. It is unrecognisable from its former, crumbling state.
A regional television crew comes to film. Father William thanks the camera, and the reporter asks him to let Finn say a few words.
Saint, what? Hes just a man of God, doesnt talk much, William replies.
The crew insists, and they find Finn digging a flowerbed beside the chapel.
Finn, say something to the audience, the reporter urges.
Finn looks bewildered, smiles faintly, and, with his sunbleached hair now almost white, his beard and moustache goldstreaked, his skin weathered by labor, his eyes bright with faith, he points at the garden and shouts, Im planting lilies here; theyll grow and bring joy to everyone.
He returns to planting. The reporter watches, baffled, as the camera is switched off. Finns mothers voice echoes in his mind, You will be a joy to the people, Finn. And he keeps trying.
