“I will
dance next year,” I told my husband as we made our way to the final tour of the
evening and then home. However, my mind wandered as we listened amidst the
ornate and beautiful surroundings. Despite the friendly Pastor’s interesting
oration of the church’s history, I could not shake the cloud of regret which
was forming within me. When the tour ended, I told my husband, “I cannot wait.
I want to find Opa!” He smiled and led me back to the Festival Dance floor.
The band
was on break so we settled on a bench. The evening breeze permeated with laughter
and wafted delicious aromas as my mouth watered remembering the feast we
enjoyed earlier. My husband answered “Last Call” for Spanakopeta and Dolma,
wonderful spinach stuffed in dough pockets and grape leaves stuffed with lamb
and rice! Loukoumathes, honey puffs, revisited my taste buds as the breeze
swirled about. We saved our baklava and
Kourambiedes for next day’s treat.
“Signo’mi,”
the stately elder pointed to the seat next to mine and smiled. “Please do,” I
smiled. His younger companion, perhaps his son, asked if I understood Greek.
“No,” I replied and smiled again. The gentleman mingled English with Greek just
as the evening’s Festival mixed the diversity of our community. “I am 93 years
old,” he said raising his cane, “so now I dance from here,” and he pointed to
his heart. The evening whirled on and the kind Kupios bid me, “Kalini’hta.”
As the
music played, young and old, male and female, celebrated but it was the women
who captivated my attention as they skipped and dipped to the joyous tunes.
Their confidence exuded all that the evening proclaimed. The mature women’s
grace was unmatched by the young or athletic. I was both compelled to join yet
equally intimidated. The dancing also seemed a contradiction between flowing
fluidity and crisp sharpness of movement.
I remained transfixed by the beauty before me and hesitant to disturb
this lively tapestry painted upon a Spring Evening. After a time arguing with
myself, my husband, who knows me too well, said, “Come, let’s dance now.”
Twirling me towards the dance floor and the Dancing Circle , the crowd cried, “Opa!”
Later, as
we were leaving, we stopped to thank a young woman whom I had been
intermittently conversing throughout the night. We shared giggles as we watched
from the sidelines, too shy to join in the confidence before us. However, she
had leaped bravely long before I made it to the dance floor! In fact, we had
said our goodbyes prior to our attending the Church Tour when we intended to leave
the first time. “I just could not leave without dancing,” I told her now. Her
friend overheard and smiled, “No regrets,” she laughed. To which we all cried,
“Opa!” I had feasted and danced and laughed and learned and made friends from
the Greeters to the guests…I had discovered Opa.
It was an
impromptu Spring Festival at St.
George’s Greek Orthodox Church. September’s Event had
been rained out and they had decided to try again. I will always remember that
evening as an earthly example of Christ’s declaration in John 10:10- “I have
come that they may have life and live abundantly.”