Another sister recollected: "One time, I bemoaned my own temper and hotheadedness, whereas father said the following in response: "Oh my, what is it that you are saying, matushka, but you have such a wonderful and peaceful disposition, matushka, really, the meekest and most peaceful character!" He said it so candidly and humbly that his words "peaceful" and "the meekest" were much worse than any lashing. I was truly ashamed of myself wishing I better had vanished. That's when I finally began to gradually work to restrain my hotheadedness."
Unable to carry on the challenges of the communal life, one of the Diveyevo sisters made up her mind to quit, but chose not to disclose her intentions to Venerable Seraphim. All of a sudden, the elder asked her to stop by. The sister went to see him in great confusion. Father shared the stories of his own monastic life and kept repeating over and over: "I, matushka, have spent a long life as a monastic and never have I ever walked out of the monastery, not even in my thoughts."
"What's better of the three," he asked, "comforting, prayer or conversation?" The sister responded: "I do not know, father." And then she uttered: "Can there be anything better than prayer?" "Your answer is wise," said the elder. Then he asked her to stay and, by all means, never leave the monastery. "We, matushka, were granted the land you live on by the Queen of Heaven Herself. The Mother of God pleaded to the Lord and I, lowly Seraphim, mediated for it from the Queen of Heaven. No one will ever take it away from you. We will, matushka, have our own cathedral. How can we, matushka, turn to despair? We will have everything of our own. The sisters will plow and sow wheat so that you, as a bona-fide owner, can take a loaf of bread, cut yourself a large slice, salt it and eat it as you please. We will see widows flocking to us, and they will take young lasses, too."