Heart Stories Part 1
August 11, 2025
Heart Stories Part 1
Welcome to this week’s series of Daily Reflections on Heart Stories.
On the ICB pilgrimage to Greece with Phil Cousineau last year, a strange but affirming event happened to me on the Island of Ithaca. Our bus driver pulled to the side of the road along the seashore so that we pilgrims could walk into the Mediterranean. After dipping my toes in the sea, I found a seat on a sea wall and looked at the beautiful turquoise horizon.
Our excellent Greek guide, Spyros, who had taken us all around Ithaca, including to the ruins of Odysseus’s palace, strolled over to me and we sat together on the seawall and talked. He had grown up in the Ionian Islands, where we were. “Would you please tell me a story about these islands?” I asked him and he began:
“My aunt was a humble lady who lived on one of the islands nearby. She was one of only a few people alive who knew the lost art of making a particular ancient fishing net. Billionaire Aristotle Onassis, whose palace was on the island of Skorpios near her island, preferred this rare and ancient net when he fished. When he learned it had become almost impossible to get such a net, he summoned my aunt.
When she arrived on Skorpios, he took her to his sprawling palace and walked her through its many rooms filled with priceless statues, gold ornamented furniture, and paintings by the masters. “Look at all these treasures,” he told my aunt, “This is a collection second to none— I have spent years gathering all these priceless pieces, and now they are all here. Many people would like to have what you see here.” With obvious pride, he stuck out his chest and asked, “What do you think of this amazing collection of mine?” As if to say, “Don’t you wish you had this?”
My aunt said, “These are beautiful and lovely to see. But I am content with my family, my little house, and making the nets my father and mother taught me to make. Those things are what make me happy, not possessions. If I had all these priceless treasures, they would never make me happy.” Mr. Onassis looked at her as if she were out of her mind.
A couple of years later, he summoned my aunt again for more of her rare nets. Her boat pulled up to his dock, beneath his palace on the hill above. He was noticeably sad because he had lost his 26-year-old son in an air crash the year before and was stricken with depression. With puffy eyes, he said something my aunt will never forget. He said, “It’s been some time since we last talked, and now, I am just like you.”
The bus driver honked the horn, and the spell of the story was somewhat broken. But before we got back on the bus, I thanked Spyros and said he would never know how grateful I was to have heard this story.
Dear God,
Your truth came to me from Spyros when I was in a country far from my own. I will forever be thankful. Amen
