Modern Cinderella


This is about simple, inspirational, amazing women, whose stories prove that fairytale happy ending exists, is about feminity and change of destiny that really happens in nowadays lives.

D. lived in a small village, in a poor family with too many generations of people under the same shelter. Their education was reduced to whatever native intelligence gave them as none of the adults had the patience, time and widsom to teach them more than was in the daily life routine. They taught themseves to read, tell stories, count and behave. Playing with them was for me a festive event as my parents didn’t like me to spend time at their house, I was a unique child of a middle class family that had expections and judgements about who I interact with. But I was attracted to that courtyard as the moth was attracted to the light bulb. The eldest children didn’t pay me too much attention although I was craving for their company. As years passed by I had to stick more and more with the younger girl, D. She was unbearable and moody but she started to become dearer and dearer as time went by. During my teenagehood I looked at her as to my sister I never had and felt joy when I met her and wished to share with her secrets and moments about life. I was seeing her only in holidays and she grew older she spent less time at home when I was in the village. I left the country with my parents for a few years and still tried to send her a postcard or to see her when back to visit my grandparents. During one of my visits I found out that she left the country as well for a better future, my grandmother didn’t know exactly where or whom did she leave with. My father came back in the village and when I called him once he told me that my friend came to visit her family and left a phone number for me to call her whenver I had time. Memories and moments of my childhood came back into my mind and all sweet emotions overwhelmed me. All I knew was that I wanted to see my friend now that she finally came back into my life. My dear friend didn’t forget me after such a long time of not being in touch. I picked up the phone and dialled but unsuccessful call as the number wasn’t available. The next day my father asked me if I called and assured me that he had given me the right number. I tried again and again as I realized I didn’t dial it correctly. At the other end of the line, there she was, sweet, feminine voice with a slight French accent. We spoke and after a few minutes the talk was as if we saw eachother a week before and started to write to each other e-mails about the daily life, mine in Santorini, hers in Paris. I was surprised to hear that she settled down and married to a French man and lived in the City of Lights. I was there approximately two years before, just for a short holiday, if only I had news about her! The season was ending soon and she invited me to pay her a visit. I couldn’t wait to see her and my days on the island were hurrying like in the soft light of the fading sun over the caldera. Mid October I released the flat, heart broken and with more luggage than any girl could handle, so, I decided to givevaway one big sack of clothes that I used to wear at house, my mother’s iron machine and some pots, the cuttlery set, bed linen, a bed cover, etc. I knew my mother would be angry about that but I had like 11 pieces of big luggage and there was no one to help me get them in the catamaran speed ferry that would take to Crete where I was supposed to spend a week or two, send some of my staff to home and then fly to Paris to see my see friend.
There I was, hugging her and almost not believing all the events and happenings that had occured to me lately. I met in Athens airport a traffic controller that was a pain in the ass but realized he wanted to know me and asked for my phone number. In vain had I told him that I was going to leave Greece for a while and not coming back until spring.

To be continued

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