excerpt
old man was working with his spade in his new greenhouse. He was
very happy to see his son.
“Ah ha, I see you have come to help me get the weeds off the soil.
Over there, I have a second spade.”
“If you need my help, Father, I will be glad to help you.”
“Come now. Can I not even joke with you? You have grown to
such a man for what? Where are you off?”
“I am taking a stroll to the monastery, and I will be back at
home for lunch.”
“Alright, my son. God be with you.”
Hermes took a road covered by the trees, and soon he reached
the monastery. It was built on a rocky summit. A cliff led all the
way down to the sea, where the waves broke gently. In the winter,
this stronghold was beaten by the north winds and the rain. In the
summer, it suffered from the burning heat. The monastery had a
reputation among the locals because of the many miracles that had
taken place. Surely one could observe an enemy cannonball wedged
in the wall of the sanctuary. It had been there for many years, and the
monks claimed that the grace of Mary the Virgin, whose name the
church bore, stopped the ball, not allowing it to destroy the temple.
As he passed through the entrance, he found himself in a large courtyard
surrounded by living quarters and storehouses. In the middle of
the yard, with its back toward the east, stood the church.
Hermes walked inside the church and lit a candle. A monk
greeted him warmly.
“Good morning, my child, which good wind brought you here?”
“Good morning, Father, I’d like to ask permission to look for
something in the library of the monastery.”
“Alright, my child, come,” said the monk, looking at him a bit
more intensely.
“Are you not George Dragakis’ son?” he added
“Yes, Father.”
“How are your studies going?’
“Very well, Father.”
Libros Libertad 