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The Locket
I look out from my office window. The sky is dark,
inhospitable. We didn't have much cold this year, but today a faint smell of
snow from the heights of Psiloriti softly caresses my nostrils. Snow. How
much I've missed it. There are days when I think back many years ago, when I
lived in a small provincial town at the foothills of the
Alps. And this enchanting material, light and fluffy like
powdered sugar, covered everything. It showed off beauty and covered up
ugliness. Snow, cold, gloves, cap and scarf. My brain grasps on a childhood
picture, from our endless games in the snow.
“Three, two, one …go!” Peter's voice commands and we are
all ready to take the lead in our sleds and conquer a nearby mountainside. I
had never managed to win in this beloved game, but never gave up either. And
my speed was increasing constantly. My nostrils fluttered from the touch of
the icy wind and soon they froze like the branches on the trees. "Come on,
just a little bit more," I told myself, while noticing that the coast was
clear from both sides. “I can see the finish line,” I thought, and began
celebrating when a dip in the snow sent my wooden sled to the right,
spinning on its side. My dream was crushed as my body landed on one side and
my cap and my sled on another.
What a disappointment! With my head down I dragged my sled all the way home.
"Giota, where is your medallion?" asked my
mother with a concerned voice. I felt around my throat and realized that my
amulet was gone. So my mum starts crying and I join in because the medallion
was a gift from my grandmother. She had given it to her daughter at the
Larisa station when we began our long journey to
Munich. "Put it on the baby when she is a bit older,"
said my grandmother to her daughter. It was round and showed the Parthenon.
On the back it read: "I'll always be near you. Grandma."
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 The days and months passed. The snow melted and the sleds
were once again stored away. Summer games were in order. Hide-and-seek,
chases and chewing on sour dandelions when we were bored. Best of all, we
would climb some of the hazel nut trees and eat the still soft nuts. A bit
of a tart taste but oh so yummy! The snowy plateau was replaced by a green
grassy one spotted with multicoloured wild flowers, while further down, some
big beautiful cows were grazing happily. "Come Giota, let's pick some
flowers and give them to our moms," said my best friend Tina. I had just
finished picking some beautiful flowers when I noticed something shiny in
the grass. I took it in my hands. It was full of mud and appeared to be
metal. I cleaned it a bit and suddenly some words appeared: "I'll always be
near you. Grandma."
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