Yet, the fateful event never happens since there is, a secret: this secret is truly the wife who watches over. Truly, his wife is one of us: reverent Orthodox Christian, day in and day out she’s in churches, bows to the ground and always prays for him. This keeps him alive.
In fact, in the crevasse that surrounds the Attica sky, there, the unfortunate woman has spread numerous icon stands, most of them made of marble, others a little humble, but all of them with an icon of the Virgin Mary
or some other saint and a little door for the donations. She goes on regular visits to collect the money which she uses primarily for donations to various charities but she keeps certain part of it since she plans to one day build a church in the name of Saint Catherine.
(Further on, down in the crevasse, someone has placed some beehives in a field and further on in the orchard are the ruins of the tumbled stately estate.)
This story of the Italian is our story, Helen. Am I not a pyrotechnician? My poems are Easter copper engravings, and my paintings are of unbelievable beauty and superb creations of the Attica sky. However, if they haven’t ripped me apart yet to throw my flesh to the dogs, this I owe to you, to your great care and love. I know it, don’t hide it from me, I know when I say: you pray for me.
Collect the money from the icon stands and spend it with your saintly, white hands, spread goodness all over. However, save some, so that we can save a small amount to build a church dedicated to the Queen who carries your name. I’ll get married to you in there, in that church, because you are beautiful and have the kindest, and most proud soul and I love you passionately.
Libros Libertad 