15The smell of wild hyacinth filled the air before the winter of 1942 had completely vanished. For Maria Christina it couldn’t have come too quickly. It meant that she could take the tapestries off the windows and doors and convert the winter room for the summer. But more importantly she could now plant every inch of black dirt they owned and watch as the spinach, pumpkin, and zucchini gradually grew as well as the carrots and scallions she planted in the pots usually reserved for flowers. The Triantafyllou household had managed to weather the bitter season the way custom had wisely dictated, a string of religious celebrations to keep the spirit strong, Christmas, St. Basil’s Day, The Epiphany. Then the personal celebrations, Yiannis’ name day, Zoitsa’s fourth birthday.
In Athens, carts w
