The sun was just starting to make its warm appearance in the blue Cretan sky, rising above the White Mountains and spreading its gold-yellow veil over this blessed corner of the Aegean Sea. In the central square of the picturesque village of Panagia, Chania a familiar setting was already unfolding. Sifis, the owner of the local ‘kafeneio’ was nervously making coffee for his fellow villagers who were starting their day with their regular teasing to each other. Seizing those moments to clear their heads from the difficulties of another hard-working day in the fields was indeed a purifying procedure for them and thus grouchy faces had no place amongst them. With one exception. Manolis was 83, belonged to the elderly of the village and enjoyed the respect of everyone. He had gone through a world war, witnessed his village being burned down by Nazi soldiers and mourned 2 of his 4 brothers during the Greek civil war. A rough man, true match of the land that raised him. The loss of his beloved wife however, 6 months ago, had literally wipe the smile off his wrinkled face. An empty gaze dominated his expression and words could not find their way out of his mouth.