When I was growing up there was only one herb in our house: oregano. It was never fresh and it always came from Greece, harvested in the harsh Arcadian mountains around the village. Whenever my father returned from a trip to the homelands, as he used to call Greece, he would bring a gift, a…
Conversations about Remembering
There is a story about a believer who spoke to God. He had walked many times on the beach, through good and bad times. He looked back on the pair of footprints that traversed the sand. God had accompanied him.But he saw stretches of sand with only one set of footprints. He asked God: “Why…
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