“Millie Slavidou is a British-born writer who has lived in Greece for many years. Her stories of an intrepid young explorer take readers on a journey around the world to discover customs and cultures of other countries.
As mother of three children, one of whom has SN, Millie knows how important it is that her books reflect the diversity of life and help children understand their place in the world.
The books are aimed at children around 8 years and are illustrated with Instagram-style images.
Today we are sharing an exclusive extract from the book ‘Lucy Evans, InstaExplorer, Christmas in Greece’.”
The story so far …
Lucy Evans is a Welsh teenager whose mother is in diplomatic service, currently in Afghanistan. Due to concerns about the safety of her mother’s posting, Lucy is staying with her aunt in Greece, attending local school and helping out in a school for children with Special Needs. At the school, she met little Filippos, whose family invited her to join them for the traditional Christmas event Ta Fota.
The next morning, after a quick breakfast of toast, yogurt and honey, they set off for the port. Assuming that it would already be full, Auntie Jenny did not even go near her usual favourite parking place, but instead parked along a side street about five minutes walk away. They strolled down to the sea, entering the harbor and heading for the big anchor statue.
Sure enough, Mrs Angelidou was already there with her family. Filippos saw Lucy and waved at her, his way of saying hello, before hugging her legs. She smiled and patted him gently on the head before giving him a big hug in return.
“Lucy! How lovely to see you!” cried Mrs Angelidou. “This is my husband, Dimitris, and these are my other children, Rafaella and Markos.”
Lucy shook hands with them all, and introduced Auntie Jenny. “Your niece, she has been fantastic with our little boy, our Filippos,” Mrs Angelidou told her. “I am sure he will make so much more progress now. Such a kindhearted girl. You must be so proud of her.”
Introductions over, they all turned their attention to the sea. A crowd had already assembled along the harbour walkways. Lucy saw that a wooden table had been set up at the end. There were no boats moored near there, and the crowd had left ample space around the table. It was not large, and was covered with a plain white tablecloth.
On the table Lucy could see some bowls, and Auntie Jenny saw her eyeing the set up. “That is for the priests,” she said. “They should be here soon.”
By now, Lucy was used to the sight of Greek Orthodox priests wandering the streets, in their black cassocks and distinctive tall hats. She had even taken a few pictures of them. She had to quell an urge to throw something at the hat to knock it off! She had her phone ready in her hand, although she still wasn’t sure what to expect.
The priests duly arrived, with heavily embroidered cassocks thrown over their customary black robes. Lucy supposed this must be their festive wear. They went up to the little table, chanting in the distinctive way that Lucy had heard so many times since arriving in Greece. People around Lucy started crossing themselves repetitively. She waited patiently, not a believer, but not wishing to disrespect the proceedings.
One of the priests took up a bunch of fresh basil and dipped it in the bowl of water. He carried it aloft and started to shake it in the direction of the crowd, walking around to make sure droplets of water fell on all the people gathered. Lucy watched, fascinated, as people crossed themselves furiously when the water landed on them. She was itching to wipe away a drop that had landed on her eyebrow, but didn’t dare in case it was considered taboo and disrespectful.
She wondered fleetingly if the basil represented something to do with St Basil, whose feast day it had been at the new year, just six days previously. But then they would have just used basil on that day, not today, she thought. Were they even the same word in Greek? She wasn’t sure.
Finally, the priest moved on, and Lucy inwardly heaved a sigh of relief, gently raising her hand to brush back her unruly hair, an innocent gesture to hide her wiping away the water. She swiped her phone and looked up ‘basil’. The entry for the herb in Greek read βασιλικός, and she mentally pronounced all the letters; vasilikos. She knew from talk of Santa that he was known as Vasilis. Similar, probably from the same word, she thought.
Lucy chose another article, this one with more information. It explained that the herb basil was often seen as a symbol of new life and regrowth, and generally viewed as holy in the Orthodox Church. According to legend, basil was found growing around Christ’s tomb after the resurrection, whereas another myth told of St Helen finding a piece of the cross on which Jesus had been crucified under a patch of basil. Whatever the truth of the matter, the herb was now regarded as sacred.
Now the priest in the centre held up a wooden cross, attached to a long, thin rope. He held it up while he and his fellow priests chanted, turning to the right, the centre and the left to present the cross. He did this three times in all. And then something unexpected happened. Some instinct warned Lucy just in time to capture the moment as he raised his arm and with a flourish hurled the cross out into the sea. She saw that the slender rope was securely tied at the dock and supposed that they would haul it back in, but she was wrong.
Standing to one side, a group of young men and boys were wearing swimming shorts, and they rushed to dive into the sea and swim out after the cross, amidst shouts of encouragement from the onlookers. It was a race to see who would get there first. “They must be freezing!” she thought, even as she remembered that Despina’s cousin would be among the swimmers. She wondered which one of them he was.
She spotted Despina herself standing with a small band on the other side, instruments held at the ready. The conductor had a baton poised. As one of the swimmers reached the floating cross and held it up high, there were cheers and shouts of “Bravo!” The young man untied it from the rope and punched the air with his fist.
As they swam back to the dock to return the cross to the priest, the band started to play. Lucy took a couple of photos of the band, finding their red uniforms and hats striking.
“That’s the Blessing of the Waters, Lucy,” Aunt Jenny explained. “It’s supposed to drive away any evil spirits or whatever for the next year.”
“What do they do in places that aren’t by the sea?” asked Lucy.
“Oh, if there’s a river, then they swim in the river. I’ve seen that too,” replied Auntie Jenny. “And if there is neither river, lake nor sea close by? Well, I can tell you what they do. Last year, I happened to be in Orestiada, a town to the north of here. About a hundred kilometres or so inland. They just throw a cross into a big brass cauldron.”
“What? Like a witches cauldron?” asked Lucy.
“Sorry, not really a cauldron, but it does look a bit like one. It’s actually a baptismal font. But here they don’t have great stone built ones in the church doorway, they have these metal things, they really do look like cauldrons!”
Lucy made a mental note to go to a church somewhere and get a good look at the baptismal font. She wasn’t sure she really believed that!
Find out more about Christmas in Greece by ordering or downloading the book via Amazon.
For other exciting stories of Lucy Evans, check out Jump! Books here
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p.s. if you do decide to join us on this year’s Christmas adventure, don’t forget you’ll need to have Elfie’s Christmas Letters in your house by the 30th November for all the fun to start on the 1st December! If you’d prefer less commitment than delivering one letter a day, then depending on the age of your child(ren), the North Pole Christmas Letters, or the Candy Cane Christmas Letters may be perfect for your family!
Come and join us on Facebook and over on Christmas Traditions & Magic For Children. The Shop is ready for Christmas 2016, so please do pop in and have a rummage 🙂
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Emily x
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