Sunday Survival

Solar Eclipse

The crowds in Athens were thick and sticky, like a fog over the swamp in the early summer morning. Beatrice led the way, weaving in and out of the Greeks and tourists covering the road. Suddenly, Beatrice halted, while simultaneously turning on her heel to face a small stucco building. She pulled Sunday's hand, dragging her quickly into a courtyard filled with the most delicious sights and sounds.

Two orange trees flanked a patio that housed a few tables and chairs covered in vibrantly printed table cloths. There were other flowers and plants speckled throughout the space, along with a cat and sleeping dog. A couple sat lazily at one of the tables sipping coffee; they may have been there for hours the way they sat settled in. Sunday was happy to join this scene and the events that may unfold.

Then, the total eclipse began. Beatrice and Sunday pulled out their glasses and looked up expectantly. Sunday felt herself unfolding like a flower. Being in this ancient place while this cosmic wonder  occurred made her feel grounded and in flight at the very same time. She realized that we are all part of a greater scheme, an integral cog in a spinning wheel, that there were many people before her and many people who will follow, and each one played an important role in shaping this ancient city, country and world. Dalia's life, cut short like the stem of a flower, mattered, not only to Sunday, but to all.

Beatrice and Sunday took off their glasses and looked at each other at the same time. They knew, without saying a word, that this moment mattered and will always matter until the end of time. This was the beginning of a new life, the greatest adventure of all.