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Home Stories(english)

Συντάχθηκε απο τον/την by Thomas Patukas   
Κυριακή, 01 Νοέμβριος 2009 09:22

My memory of Homori goes back a few years before the Second World War.
As I grow older memories of the past are recalled and I yearn to be young again.  I remember vividly how great it was to be a kid growing up in Homori.  Life then seemed so simple, happy, carefree, and full of love.

When the Second World War broke out life in the village changed drastically overnight. From everywhere, people were coming back. Homori reached out and welcomed those who long ago left the village seeking a better life elsewhere.

Going back to Homori
Συντάχθηκε απο τον/την by Trifon Skiadas   
Κυριακή, 01 Νοέμβριος 2009 09:18

It's easy to remember my childhood years. The memories of that time of my life flood my mind every time I visit Homori.

An early morning trip to the field of Kanavokipo to gather oregano has become a summer tradition. It's about a 30-minute walk, but it takes much longer if you pause to enjoy the songs of the birds and the fragrance of the wildflowers.

Any time of year is a good time to sit in the town square of Homori and reminisce with the town elders over a glass of ouzo or a cup of coffee. Some of these elders have now moved to the cities with their families and some have passed away. They are missed.

For me it is a special pleasure in the summer to see some of the elder relatives and family friends, such as Thea Aphrodite, Theo and Thea Kotsotas, our retired priest, Pater Antonis and others.


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