We have a dear friend who we visit daily in Arfara. Her name is Katina. When we go to the bakery in the morning, we walk through town by her house. She is a fixture there from early in the morning and late into the evening. Her house is right on the main street and she sits in her doorway on a wooden chair greeting those who walk by. Katina wears black mourning the loss of her husband and a gold band still remains on her finger. We stop to talk and she holds Kolya's hands... his soft smooth hands in her weathered ones. Her kind eyes look into his and she speaks with sincerity. It does not matter that we don't understand her words. We know their meaning.

Before Caroline flew home to the States, we went to get a picture of Katina. I explained that Caroline was leaving on a plane to America... could we take a picture? Her eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered. Then she straightened her skirt and held her head high to pose for the picture. If for not other reason, I must learn the Greek language to hear Katina's story...

XOXO,

Karen June