Thesprotia, October 30, 1940
The bullets whistled manically above their heads and they, terrified, did not know how to react. [...] Maro, inflamed by the fire of the hell that erupted from the black clouds of the sky, held Konstantis tightly in her arms. She had curled up like a little bird under a tree and tried to protect herself and the terrified child. She caressed his hair through his cape and whispered softly to him: "I love you, my Konstantis, I love you, my child. Don't be afraid." But fear also came to her mind; fear and injustice.
She thought that at this hour Eleni would have gotten out of bed, throwing off her covers. She would go outside and see a deserted and empty village. "She deserved it!" she said aloud, without caring that her child could hear her. However, deep down she knew that what they had done to the unfortunate woman was equivalent to death, both mental and physical. It was one of the few times that Maro invoked God's help: "My God, make the evil not fall upon my head. I was not solely to blame," she pleaded, and in her prayer she tried to justify herself - and her actions.
The mosaic of her Confession
is revealed and captivates...