Story
Youssef Khaleel Ibrahim was born around 1887 in the Beni Suef countryside, near El-Gafadoun in the district of El-Fashn. When he was still very small, about three years old, he lost his sight. The loss could have narrowed his world, but in the memory of the Coptic Church it became one of the mysteries through which God widened it. He would grow into a monk who could not see with his eyes, yet seemed to perceive the shape of souls, the nearness of saints, and the needs of those who came to him.
At about thirteen, Youssef was sent to the place connected with the Monastery of St. Samuel the Confessor. His father intended education, not necessarily monasticism. There the boy learned psalms, rites, hymns, and the texture of church life. Over time, the monastery ceased to be merely a school and became home. When he was old enough, he opened his desire to his spiritual father and became the monk Andrawes El-Samueli.
The monastery gave him hard work. Though blind, he carried water from the well and filled a large basin for the needs of the fathers. The task was heavy even for a sighted man, but Andrawes did it without demanding special treatment. This is why stories about him often begin not with visions, but with obedience. His holiness was first visible in the work no one applauded.
He prayed constantly. Sometimes his lips moved silently; sometimes he chanted psalms aloud for long hours. Those who knew him said he lived the words before he perfected the tune. He was humble to the point of embarrassment. If a monk guided him away from his cell, he was too shy to ask to be guided back. Once, when he was elderly and leaning on a staff, he heard that Anba Mina Ava Mina was approaching. He hurriedly asked his disciple to hide the stick, not wanting to meet a bishop in a way he felt lacked monastic courtesy.
The most remembered trial came when conditions at St. Samuel's Monastery became dangerous and the other monks left. They tried to take Andrawes with them, but he refused to abandon his monastery. Blind and alone, he shut the gate from within and rang the bell twice daily so the surrounding area would know the monastery was inhabited. For months he lived on dry bread and salty water. His presence preserved not only a building, but a witness: a monk's home is not something he leaves when it becomes inconvenient.
The stories also remember tenderness. Andrawes loved children, answered with few words, and blessed people with the phrase, "May God be with you, not against you." He endured surgeries, hospital stays, and pain with thanksgiving. Devotees speak of visits from the Virgin Mary and St. Samuel, and of miracles during and after his life. Even when such accounts are handled carefully, they show what people experienced in him: peace, discernment, and a heart open to heaven.
He departed on 7 February, though sources differ between 1988 and 1989. His life left the Coptic imagination with a clear image: a blind monk, alone in the desert, ringing a bell so the monastery would not fall silent. In that sound, generations heard faithfulness.