Our vineyard in Pontus

So many nomads, the family of Papa Charalambos, we threw a black stone on the land that nurtured us, and we tilled a new homeland… A hard road, dangerous, the Turks on our heels, chasing the “infidels”, stealing, raping our women, raping churches and symbols of Greek and Orthodox… But we never lost our humanity, and whenever necessary, we showed that we were superior to our enemy. But the homeland we left behind is never lost, never forgotten, never dies. It has its roots deep in our souls and minds. Like the vines that take root in the depths of the arid earth and bear their fruit… Two vines from our old vineyard, our only livelihood, remind us forever of our former life, bind us to everything we loved, so that we never forget, wherever we find ourselves, our vineyard in Pontus…