Alms

Throughout our travels we have met impoverished people in need of help, begging alms. Having read on travellers' websites about problems with aggression from beggars and also scams where people who really are able to work try to beg instead, we were initially wary. We set aside small amounts to hand out as we felt so moved in Italy, but passed many by as well.

In Greece, perhaps time has softened us a bit and also the fact that people gather at the church steps to ask for help makes it seem less "risky" to give. I noticed that Fr. Nicholas and Gabriel had developed the same habit we have: carrying some change easily accessible and dropping it in most cups we pass by, even just a little bit. The beggars I have seen here have had obvious physical impairments that could not be "faked".

In downtown Thessaloniki, I saw a man on the street with legs completely shrivelled below the knee, so that they were useless. Although I passed him by, I looked him in the eye. Later in the day, I passed again and dropped a little change in. And for a third time, just after we had met up with Fr. Nicholas and Gabriel, I passed him a third time. This time Fr. Nicholas, in front of me, dropped some change in his cup. As I passed by, he spoke to me in English asking "Who are you? Where are you from?"

I stopped and began to talk with him. His name is Nebojsa, and I believe later Fr. Nicholas learned he is Yugloslavian. We talked with him for quite some time, learning that he has a dream of coming to the States for an operation for his legs, but has no idea how he could raise the money to pay for it. He says he feels for his three children he should try to do this if there is any way.

Christopher and I had just come from Vespers with Fr. Methodios at St. Gregory Palamas. He had given us the name of a Greek man in Seattle who is a doctor, and we thought that perhaps things could come together in a way for us to help this man. With Fr. Nicholas' blessing and some more visiting he did with Nebojsa the next day, we hope that somehow we might be able to help him. Having an actual name, face, and story to connect with was a wonderful thing, I think, for all of us. Greece has many refugees from impoverished countries all around it. One passes many, wishing to be able to help more. Perhaps God will give us a task for one man. We will all pray and see what happens.

After the men left Saturday morning for Mount Athos, I left Grandma and the kids for a short time and went up to get some more cash and bid St. Demetrios goodbye. I also had the important task of trying to call the monastery we hoped to stay at next. Since some of the group plans had changed, we were left with 3 nights and no plan. Fr. Nicholas had called his friend Demetrios Karellas the night before and he gave me many suggestions and 4 phone numbers for monasteries around Volos, which is about halfway between Thessaloniki and Athens.

Beginning to call first thing in the morning, I quickly found that 3 numbers were non-operational. The fourth number was for the monastery which was his first choice for us. I called and called many times that morning; it rang, but no one answered. Because in the monastery different hours for work and prayer take precedent over the telephone, I hoped perhaps I'd hit the right time eventually.

Meanwhile, we got the car packed up and headed out, searching for a particular bookstore where I could find some icon books. After parking, walking, asking directions, we finally found it, but alas, it was closed on Saturday. Too bad!

The last errand I had in town was to drop off a letter for Fr. Methodios regarding Nebosja. In trying to handle all the one-way streets and finally arrive at the church we'd been seeing from a block away for several minutes now, I must have run straight through a stop sign. I heard Grandma scream and saw 2 cars approaching us from the right, as we were in the middle of the intersection; they were going probably 30mph. We all slammed on our brakes, and I think there may have been 4-6 inches between our front right end and one of them. I looked up and St. Gregory Palamas church was right in front of us. Thank God and our guardian angels and St. Gregory for protecting us and averting what probably would have been a pretty nasty accident.

At long last, we were out of Thessaloniki and on our way to the next adventure....