Sunday, August 10, 2008

Animal stories from Mt. Carmel and Athens

Animal Stories from Mt. Carmel and Athens:

(Especially for Teo, Stevie and Pablo)

The Raven of Mt. Carmel:

On our last day in Israel, Grandpa and I drove from Nariyya, a dear little city on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea in the North of Israel, south through the big city of Haifa. Haifa is built by the sea, too, but just inland from the sea is Mount Carmel, the mountain where Elijah invited the prophets of the false God, Baal, to show the Israelites how strong Baal was. Of course, Baal didn't answer those prophets when they called him, and so Elijah said it was his turn. As you remember, he prayed a quiet prayer, and God answered with a bolt of fire so strong it burned up all the stones of the altar and licked up the water around the altar. Amazingly, after that Elijah got frightened and discouraged and went and hid by a brook where the only food he had was some bread that a raven brought him every day.
(The National Park on Mt. Carmel)

Well, Grandpa and I drove up to the top of Mount Carmel and found a little park with picnic tables. We had some food with us, and so we ate our lunch there and thought about Elijah. When we were finished, we had several pieces of pita bread left, and we knew we would not be able to take it with us on the plane, so I suggested we give it to the birds. We scattered some crumbs around and then Grandpa took a whole round pita loaf and sailed it like a Frisbee over the cliff and into the woods. I said, "I think that's good to repay the ravens for bringing bread to Elijah." Just then from the exact place in the woods where the bread had gone, we heard a raven cry, "Caw-caw! Caw-caw!" That was the only raven call we heard, and it seemed like he was saying, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for the bread!"

The Dogs of Syntagma Square:

Grandpa and I arrived in Athens on Friday and went to our wonderful hotel where we have a sliding glass door with a balcony that looks out over the city to the sea and to the Acropolis. (The Acropolis is a rocky hill with some very beautiful, ancient and famous buildings on top of it.) We sat on our balcony watching the sun go down, just mesmerized by the beauty. The moon came up and flood lights turned on, making the Acropolis look like an enchanted castle.

Finally, we got hungry, and we decided to go outside and down some stairs to the subway, a very fast underground train. Within a few minutes, we were at the next station, and we got off at Syntagma Square. This is a large paved area with benches and trees near the parliament building. There are lovely statues on platforms with marble stairs leading to them. Nearby there are restaurants where you can sit outside and eat or get something to drink.

As I climbed the stairs from the subway to this lovely Square, I saw a big dog lying at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. He was lying on his side, so limp that I thought he was dead. "How sad," I thought. And then I saw another dog, a black one, lying on his side at the top of the stairs. "What's going on??!!" I wondered. Do people bring their dead pets here? I looked carefully at the two dogs and saw that they were breathing softly. They were just asleep – right in the middle of all the people coming and going. As I got to the top of the stairs, I saw a beautiful statue with steps leading to it and…Yes! You guessed it! There was another big dog, lying on his side, sound asleep on one of the steps. As I looked around, I saw more dogs, all lying on their sides, taking wonderful naps in Syntagma Square.

Grandpa and I walked across to the far side of the Square to cross a busy street so we could find a restaurant. Suddenly, here came a middle sized Terrier-type dog with a red collar and big smile under his mustache. He sneaked up behind the lady in front of us and sniffed all around her tote bag. All at once he leaped around her and into the street. I gave a little shriek because cars were racing by, and I was sure he was going to be struck. He roared fiercely and jumped at the front fender of a yellow taxi. The taxi didn't even pause as it zoomed past with the dog running beside it. As soon as the taxi had been chased away, the dog stepped back onto the curb and waited patiently for the light to change, smiling with satisfaction that he had done his duty well. But, oh no! Here came another yellow taxi, and he sprang into action, roaring fiercely, jumping at the front fender, chasing it off into the darkness. Back he climbed onto the curb, happily smiling as other cars hurried past. Ay-yi-yi! Another yellow taxi! Into the street he bravely leaped again, risking his life to protect us all, chasing the enemy into the night. He waited for the light to change, and then trotted across the street and off on some adventure.

Grandpa and I strolled on. The evening was enchanting. The temperature was just right, and the air felt like silk on our skin. Someone was playing beautiful music on an accordion. We found a little sidewalk café and ate Greek salad and delicious bread. After supper, we walked on and found an ancient church, an artist painting on pottery, and a man playing his guitar and singing American folk songs. Finally, we started back. When we came to Syntagma Square, it was after 11 o'clock, but there were dozens of boys skating in one part of the Square and…what was I seeing!?! All the sleeping dogs had waked up from their naps and they were trotting happily around among the boys, as though they were pretending to be skating, too. All at once, out of nowhere, came the little taxi-chasing terrier. He wove through the skating boys, barking, and then shot off through the park with all the other dogs following him. We watched as the line of dogs streaked past us and out of the Square, all barking like crazy. Daddy thought the dogs were chasing the Terrier away, but I thought he might be the leader, guiding them to some new mischief he had discovered. When the dogs had disappeared, we heard some barks from the park. There was the black dog, too old and tired to join the chase, but wanting to be part of it anyway. We walked toward him, and noticed that he had found someone's bottle of water. He was walking along with the top of it in his mouth, the rest sticking out to the side, so that whenever he wanted a drink, he just tipped his head and the water would flow into his mouth. He had a red collar, too. Who owned these dogs? Who was taking care of them? It's a mystery. The mystery of the dogs of Syntagma Square.

2 comments:

Becky said...

These stories may have been for children, but I absolutely loved them. Thanks for sharing them. Vonnie, you should write children's stories. :o)

Heather Ann said...

So good to hear voices today! Your stories are amazing! I'm glad you're doing well - may the grand adventure continue to send you happy surprises! (Hope your e-mail is accessible soon.) ^_^