Once I came across a teaching by Saint Barsanuphius of Optina, who said that imitating the saints whose names we bear is our duty.

That sentence stayed with me. At baptism, I was given the name of Saint Helen, Equal-to-the-Apostles. I often pray to her and reread her life story — yet I cannot claim to truly follow her example. Saint Helen lived in the third and fourth centuries, in an age of persecution for Christians. She built churches and monasteries, helped the poor, and — most famously — discovered the Cross on which Jesus Christ was crucified. That discovery gave rise to one of the great feasts of the Church, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

Reading about her, I often thought: How can I imitate someone like that? Her life feels so distant, her deeds so grand. I am an ordinary person — a mother, a wife, living in a quiet neighborhood centuries and worlds away from the Roman Empire. What does it even mean to imitate a saint of such magnitude?

But the words of Elder Barsanuphius offer clarity. He said that imitation does not mean copying every action of a saint; rather, it means choosing one of their virtues as a foundation for our own spiritual life. He gave the example of Saint Macarius of Optina, who patterned his humility after Saint Macarius the Great.

So I asked myself: What is the virtue I can learn from Saint Helen?

Strangely enough, the answer came from my five-year-old son.

One evening, while looking at the icons in our prayer corner, he began to ask questions.
“Who are these saints?” he wanted to know.

I picked up the icon of Saint Luke of Crimea and explained, “He was a doctor. When medicine failed, people prayed to him — and even in hopeless cases, many were healed.” Then, pointing to another icon, I said, “And this is Saint John of Kronstadt. He helped the poor and also had the gift of healing.”

My son listened with wide eyes, deeply impressed by these miraculous gifts. Then he turned to the icon of Saint Helen — my saint — and asked,
“And what gift did your saint have?”

I told him about how she found the True Cross, how she supported her son, Emperor Constantine, and how she helped spread the Christian faith throughout the empire. But my son seemed less moved by these great historical deeds.

It wasn’t until I added, “She was also the mother of Emperor Constantine,” that his face lit up. He thought for a moment and said with utter simplicity,
“Then you can pray to her to help you raise a good son.”

That innocent remark stopped me in my tracks. It was such a childlike, yet profoundly accurate insight.

And I realized: that is exactly what I already do. When I pray to Saint Helen, I pray for my family, for my son — for the strength and wisdom to be a good mother. Perhaps this is what it means, for me, to imitate my saint: not by building churches or discovering relics, but by nurturing faith in the heart of my child.

To raise a good child, one must first become a good parent. Saint Helen is, above all, a model of a mother whose faith shaped her son’s destiny — not because he became a great ruler, but because he came to know Christ. And how did he come to faith? Through her example.

Maybe that is what “imitating the saints” truly means: not replicating their miracles, but embodying their love — in the smallest, most personal ways available to us.