Father Anastasios spends the evening together with his wife Presbytera Zoë while she is doing some kitting and he is playing with koumbaloi, which is a strand of Greek beads used for calming one’s nerves. “How was your day? Did you enjoy your time at the Dunn’s residence while preparing the goods for the bake sale, Presbytera Zoë?” he asked. “It was pleasant. We got much accomplished. Agatha Dunn suggested that we include chicken dinners this year and serve lunch to the public in addition to Greek pastries. We are having Greek lemon chicken with Greek style string beans and rice. Agatha also suggested we advertise on the radio, in addition to advertising in our local papers.” Presbytera Zoë sighed. Father Anastasios furls his eyebrows with worry. “The media will be costly.” “That’s what I said, but Agatha says we have to spend money in order to raise enough money for the survival of St. Helen’s Orthodox Church. It’s for the good of the church. Agatha says we need to generate support for our church outside of our congregation in addition to getting financial support from our own parishioners.”

“Do you ladies have enough money in your club funds to cover the costs for all your expenses? I know that the Ladies’ Philoptohos Society has money in a special bank account. But I hope you don’t go over your budget.” Father Anastasios advised his wife.

“Father, leave the business of the Ladies’ Philoptohos Society up to me and the ladies. Don’t you worry about our funds. I know we will manage. We always do. By the way, a letter arrived for you today from your sister.” Presbytera Zoë sets her knitting down on the table and pulled out an envelope from the pocket of her housecoat. The envelope has a black ribbon on the front of it as is customary when there is a death of a family member or close friend or a close acquaintance. She hands the envelope to Father Anastasios.

Father Anastasios takes the envelope from his wife’s hand and opens it quickly. He pulls out the letter and reads it aloud. “My dearest brother. My heart is filled with great sadness this evening. This letter is the hardest one I ever had to write. Our mother passed away tonight. She has been sick for quite sometime. Cancer in her lungs. The doctors did all they could. The Lord has taken her into His Grace. May she find peace where she is. May her memory be eternal. Give my love to my dearest sister-in-law Presbytera Zoë. Love always, your sister Ana.” Father Anastasios holds the letter with both hands and his arms stretched out on the table. He reads the letter again in a whisper and then stares at the letter like he is frozen in time.