Journeys and Star Gazing

On a quiet Sunday, December 10, 2023, my mother left this world. A cherished relic, once belonging to my grandmother, had become my mother’s dearest possession. It rested faithfully by her bedside, accompanied by the constant glow of an olive oil lamp, flickering day and night.

In her room, when I visited, she would present the icon for me to kiss and cross myself.

This icon held profound significance for my family, hailing from Pontic Greeks who endured the harrowing attempted genocide in the 1920s. Known as the Great Disaster among Greeks, my grandparents faced unspeakable challenges during their escape, carrying with them this sacred icon. In those trying times, my grandmother, a beacon of strength, invoked the Mother of God, Theotoko, for solace and sustenance.

Picture a group of weary children and adults, huddled around a fire by the roadside, hungry and desperate. My grandmother, with unwavering faith, would bring out the cherished icon. She urged the children to kiss it and make the sign of the cross. Then, with profound devotion, she raised the icon to the heavens, repeating the ritual three times—for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost—beseeching Theotoko for divine intervention. Each time before she raised it to the star filled sky, she brought it back to her heart.

Amidst the crackling of the fire, my grandmother, holding the icon aloft, turned to share its grace with the circle of souls around her. She dipped the icon into a vessel of water three times, each motion filled with fervent prayer. As the icon emerged for the last time, she declared that the Mother of God had provided. The once-hungry children filled their cups, drank deeply, and found their hunger miraculously satisfied.

This faded icon, a witness to survival and faith, now holds a special place in my heart, connecting me to a resilient past and to my mother and her mother and to the Mother of God.

I’ve included this story in the book I’m writing which I am dedicating to my mother.

Below is a two faced icon also given to me by my mother. I thought I’d include it here. Found out through Twitter that it is a Byzantine Fan used in Liturgy and is called a ripidion, or hexapterygon.