Saint Prochor came to the Pechersky Monastery from Smolensk during the time of Abbot John and received the holy angelic schema from him. He laboured diligently in virtues and accustomed himself to great abstinence, depriving himself even of ordinary bread. Instead, he gathered lebeda (orache) grass, ground it with his own hands, made bread from it, and lived on it. During the summer, he prepared enough for the entire year, and when summer came again, he repeated the process so that he had no need for ordinary bread throughout his life. Because of this, he was called Lebednik (the Orache-eater), for apart from the prosphora at church, he never ate even vegetables in his cell—only orache—and drank nothing but water.

Seeing the saint’s endurance in such abstinence, God turned the bitterness of the orache bread into sweetness for him, and thus sorrow was turned into joy. This blessed one never grieved but joyfully laboured for God. He was never afraid of enemy raids, for he lived like a bird, possessing nothing except orache, and thus could not be likened to the rich man in the Gospel who said: “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years; take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry” (Luke 12:19). On the contrary, he reproached himself even for storing up the orache for a year, saying: “Prochor, this night your soul will be required of you; then whose will those things be which you have prepared?” (cf. Luke 12:20). In his life, this blessed one truly fulfilled the Lord’s words: “Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feeds them” (Matthew 6:26).

During the time of his ascetic labours, a great famine struck the Rus’ lands due to constant wars, and people were facing death. However, God, wishing to glorify His saint and have mercy on His people, caused orache to grow in abundance that year, more than in previous years. Thus, Blessed Prochor laboured even more, tirelessly gathering the orache, grinding it with his hands, making bread from it, and distributing it to the poor and starving. Seeing how he gathered orache, some attempted to do the same, hoping to survive the famine, but found it too bitter to eat. So, all the needy turned to the saint, and he refused no one his orache bread. To those who received it from him, the bread tasted sweet, as if mixed with honey, and they preferred it even to wheat bread. However, a remarkable thing happened: if someone took the bread secretly, without the saint’s blessing, it turned black as earth and bitter as wormwood.

One of the monks once took the bread secretly and tried to eat it, but in his hand, it turned to dust, and in his mouth, it was unbearably bitter. This happened multiple times, but he was ashamed to confess his sin and ask the saint for blessed bread. Yet, being tormented by hunger and seeing death before his eyes, he finally went to Abbot John and told him everything, seeking forgiveness. The abbot, doubting the story, ordered another monk to take some of Prochor’s bread secretly. When the bread was brought, it was just as the first monk had described—no one could eat it because of its bitterness. While the bread was still in their hands, the abbot sent another monk to ask Prochor for some bread with his blessing and to take some more secretly. When both were brought back, the secretly taken bread turned black and bitter, while the one taken with a blessing was pure and sweet as honey. After this miracle, Prochor became renowned everywhere, having nourished the hungry and brought benefit to many.

Even pure salt was miraculously formed through the prayers of the blessed one. The more he gave it away, the more it increased. There was enough for the monastery and laypeople, who came in great numbers to take salt for their households. The saint took no payment for it but gave it freely to all who asked. This led to the salt market in the city emptying out, while the monastery was filled with people seeking salt.

Then, the enemy of humankind stirred up great envy among the merchants who sold salt at the market. Seeing their profits suddenly vanish, they gathered together and went to Prince Sviatopolk, complaining: “Prochor, the monk of the Pechersky Monastery, has taken away our wealth. He draws everyone to himself for salt, and we, who pay you taxes, cannot sell our salt and are ruined because of him.” Hearing this, the prince conceived a plan to silence their complaints and enrich himself. He decided to seize Prochor’s salt and sell it through his own men at a higher price. He assured the merchants: “For your sake, I will plunder the monk.” However, his main intention was to drive them into even more significant losses, for envy cannot tolerate others’ well-being.

Sviatopolk sent men to confiscate all of Prochor’s salt. When it was taken to him, he came with the merchants to inspect it, but all they saw before them was ash. The prince ordered some to taste it, and they found it was indeed ash in their mouths. Greatly astonished and perplexed by this transformation, the prince commanded the ash to be stored for three days. Meanwhile, crowds of people came to Prochor, seeking salt, but when they learned it had been seized, they returned empty-handed, cursing the one who had taken it. Blessed Prochor, however, told them: “When the prince throws out the salt, then go and gather it for yourselves.”

After three days, the prince, realizing he had nothing but ash, ordered it to be discarded at night. But when the ash was thrown out, it miraculously turned back into salt. Upon learning this, the townspeople rushed to collect it with joy.

Seeing this wonder, Prince Sviatopolk was struck with fear, for he had committed violence against a holy man. And since the miracle had occurred before the entire city, he could not hide what had happened. So he began to investigate, and people told him everything about Prochor—not only about the salt but also about the orache bread, which had miraculously fed many, being sweet to those who received it with a blessing and bitter to those who took it secretly.

Having learned all this, Sviatopolk was ashamed of his actions. He went to the Pechersky Monastery and reconciled with Abbot John. Previously, he had been at odds with the abbot, for John had rebuked him for his greed and oppression of the people, even imprisoning him in Turiv. But fearing the wrath of the pious Prince Vladimir Monomakh, he soon released him with honour and went back to the monastery.

Because of these miracles, Sviatopolk greatly loved the Most Holy Theotokos and the Venerable Fathers Anthony and Theodosius of the Pechersky Monastery. He also profoundly revered Blessed Prochor, knowing him to be a faithful servant of God. He vowed before him never to commit acts of violence again, saying: “If by God’s will I depart this world before you, you shall lay me in the grave with your own hands, that you may show your gentleness toward me. But if you depart before me, I will carry you on my shoulders into the cave so the Lord may grant me forgiveness for my grievous sin against you.”

After this conversation, Blessed Prochor lived many years in holiness and severe asceticism. Prince Sviatopolk was on a campaign against the Polovtsy when he fell ill. The saint sent word to him: “My departure from the body is near. If you wish to fulfil your vow and receive God’s forgiveness, come and lay me in the grave with your own hands.”

Receiving this message, Sviatopolk left his army and hastened to Prochor. The saint instructed him on charity, the Last Judgment, eternal life, and the torments of hell. After blessing the prince and those around him, he raised his hands to heaven and gave up his soul to God.

With the monks, the prince carried the saint’s body into the cave and placed it in a tomb with his own hands. He then went on the campaign and won a great victory over the Polovtsy, as Prochor had foretold.

The relics of Venerable Prochor rest in the Near Caves, where they have been venerated since at least 1638. His feast is celebrated on February 23 (February 10 O.S).