This is a wonderful story written by our daughter, named Hope.
I was just storing my bag in the hostel so I I could make the most of my day-long layover in Athens when I heard a voice from the kitchen. “Good morning, would you like some food?” I poked my head in and smiled at the 3 men gathered around the small table. “That’s ok, I didn’t bring anything,” I said. “No, no, sit, we have food.”
“Thank you.” I gave in and had a seat. Two sandwiches appeared and the men split one so that I could eat a whole one. When I noticed what was going on, I tried to divide the one they had handed me but they weren’t having it, and someone gave me a coffee to drown my protests.
After 3 months of traveling, this kind of hospitality is still wonderful, but it no longer surprises me. Pretty much anyone I have taken the…
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