Lydia was born in the Russian city of Ufa in 1901 and died for the truth in 1928. Before her arrest she was part of the catacomb church in Russia for the Collective Lumber Industry with the lowest paid laborers.

Lydia was arrested on July 9, 1928. The Secret Operations Department had long been seeking a typist who had been supplying the workers of the Forestry Department type written brochures containing lives of the Saints, prayers, sermons, and instructions of ancient and recent Church hierarchs. It had been noticed that on this typist’s typewriter the lower stem of the “K” was broken; and thus Lydia was discovered.

The G.P.U. understood that there had fallen into their hands a clue for uncovering the whole catacomb Church. Ten days of uninterrupted did not break the martyr; she simply refused to say anything. On July 20th the interrogator, having lost all patience, gave Lydia over to the “special command” for interrogation.

This “special command” worked in a corner room in the cellar of the G.P.U. A permanent guard was stationed in the cellar corridor; on this day the guard was Cyril Ataev, a 23 year old private. He saw Lydia as she was brought into the cellar. The preceding ten days’ questioning had drained the strength of the martyr and she could not go down the steps. Private Ataev, at the call of his chiefs, held her and led her down to the interrogation chamber.

“May Christ,” Lydia thanked the guard sensing in the Red Army guard a spark of compassion of her in the delicate gentleness of his strong arms. And Christ saved Ataev.

The words of the martyr, her eyes full of pain and perplexity, fell into his heart. Now he could no longer listen with indifference to her uninterrupted screams and cries, as he had previously listened to the same cries from others being interrogated and tortured.

Lydia was tortured for a long time. The torturers of the G.P.U. were usually fashioned so as to leave no particularly noticeable marks on the body of the tortured, but at Lydia’s interrogation no attention was paid to this.

The screams and cried of Lydia continued uninterruptedly for more than an hour and a half.

“But aren’t you in pain? You’re screaming and crying, that means it’s painful?” asked the unexhausted torturers in one of the intervals.

“Painful! Lord how painful!” replied Lydia with a broken moan.

“Then why don’t you talk? It will be more painful!” said the perplexed torturers.

“I can’t talk… I can’t… He won’t allow,” groaned Lydia.

“Who won’t allow?”

“God won’t allow!”

The tortures devised something new for the martyr: sexual assault. There were four of them – one more was needed. They called the guard to help.

When Ataev entered the room, he saw Lydia, understood of her further torture and his own role in this – and there was worked a miracle like to the unexpected conversion of the ancient torturers. Ataev’s whole soul was repelled by the satanic abominableness, and a holy enthusiasm seized him. Totally unaware of what he was doing, the Red Army guard, with his own revolver, killed on the spot the two tortures who stood before him. Before even the second shot had echoed the G.P.U. man who had been standing behind hit Cyril on the head with the handle of his gun. Ataev still had strength enough to turn and seize his attacker by the throat, but a shot from the fourth one knocked him to the floor.

Cyril fell with his head toward Lydia, who was stretched out with thongs. The Lord gave him the opportunity of hearing once more from the martyr words of hope. And looking into Lydia’s eyes Cyril, blood gushing from him, gasped his union to the Lord:

“Saint take me with you!”

“I will take you,” Lydia smiled, radiant.

The sound and meaning of this conversation as it were opened a door to the other world, and terror darkened the consciousness of the two G.P.U. men who remained alive. With insane shouts they began to shoot the helpless victims who threatened them, and they shot until both their revolvers had been emptied. Those who had come running at the shots led them away, shouting insanely, and themselves fled from the room, seized by an unknown terror.

One of these G.P.U. became completely insane. The other soon died of nervous shock. Before his death this second one told everything to his friend, Sergeant Alexei Ikonnikoff, who turned to God and brought this account to the Church; for his zealous propagation of it he himself suffered a martyr’s death.