THE MIRACLE A True Story beside the door into the garden, was a piece of furniture containing glassware, kitchen utensils and a radio. The rioters smashed everything they could lay their hands on - plates, glasses, saucepans: everything was demolished.    One of the intruders opened the garden door and threw out the broken radio and some plates just as the residents of the house reached the hut at the bottom of the garden, next to the spoon factory. They slipped inside the hut as silently as they could, trying not fall over anything in the dark.    Further down Nikos Soukas was huddled under the fig tree with his son in his arms, praying the child wouldn't open its mouth and start crying loudly in its customary manner.    From different parts of the garden, they all stared with eyes rounded in horror at the havoc being wreaked on their home. Inside the hut, Olga Vafia-Souka could contain herself no longer and let out a deep sob. The terror in her voice distorted her words:    "Oh God, how shall we ever get out of here alive? They'll murder us all! I'd rather just die outright and not be tortured, not live to see all this! Oh God, please help us -help my child! None of this is his fault -his innocent little life has hardly begun!"    She had hidden her face in her hands to deaden the sound of her sobbing. Her mother, standing beside her, pulled her into her arms and whispered, her voice trembling: "Ssh, my daughter - be brave! We're not going to die!"    The others had not moved and or said a word. The pandemonium of the destruction going on inside the house pierced their ears like knives. Now and again the mob let out a cry of triumph when it discovered something of value to take.    Suddenly Iannis Vafias' clear, steady voice came quietly through the darkness as if from the beyond.    "Soon we shall have to get out of here and walk from the end of the garden to the police station. If we can make it, they won't dare leave us outside - their chief constable has received some very handsome handouts from the Greeks. Now - in this corner of the hut there is a bucket; I'm going to leave my wallet with all my savings beside the bucket. In it there are 5,000 Turkish lira. Whichever one of us survives will know where to come and find the money!"    No-one uttered a word; they were all overcome with the emotion of the moment. Even Olga had stopped weeping. Their attention was now drawn outside the garden. The rioters had by this time gone upstairs to the first floor of the building and were throwing chairs, picture-frames, table-cloths, ornaments, ash-trays and anything else they could lay their hands on out of the windows. The sky was a bright red and the smoke, accompanied by a strong smell of burning, was suffocating. Above the infernal noise of the vandals carrying out their work rose the sound of a bell ringing.    "They're burning the church!" whispered Irini Vafia in horror. "They're burning the church of St Constantinos! My God, what a dreadful thing to do!"    A moment or two passed and then Thanassis Vafias said:    "We must go! We must try to reach the police station. We'll all go together, without splitting up. Whatever happens to us, it will be our common fate!"    Suddenly Sideris Vafias shouted rather than said: "The gold! We forgot to bring the gold!"    "Be quiet, don't shout!" whispered his father. "Our lives are in danger and you think about the gold?" 63 and 64 Leonidas Koumakis THE MIRACLE A True Story If you prefer a hard copy of the book, please send an email to HEC-Books@hec.greece.org Previous Page | Initial Page | Site Map | Next Page (65th of 204) © For Internet 2001 HEC and Leonidas Koumakis. Updated on 19 June 2001.