"Well, that is not true. We are Greek pilgrims who have come here to see the Holy
Land."
"Is anyone here a Jew?" asked the second gunman.
"We don't know and even if we did, we wouldn't tell you," quipped Penelope.
Eleni and one of the priests on the tour tried to silence Penelope, but their efforts were in vain. Penelope moved another step forward. "I am sick of violence. I am sick of war. And I am sick of watching people getting killed!"
"Then sit down!"
"I am not sitting down until you leave this bus." She lowered her head and her voice began to waver. "The Turks murdered my husband in cold blood. The Germans killed my son. My only son! Do you hear me?"
"I heard you," said one of the gunmen.
"Now sit!"
"Go ahead and shoot me," cried Penelope. "Go ahead and do it. What are you waiting for? But please let the others live, let them go. They have done nothing."
The gunman looked at her and something touched him.
"Do you have a mother?" asked Penelope in a soft voice.
"Yes, I do."
Suddenly, a truck came along, charging from the opposite direction. The three gunmen ran out of the bus toward a deep ravine. There was gunfire from the truck, then screams and more gunfire. And then it all stopped.
Everyone rushed to help the driver. One of the pilgrims was a doctor. He stretched the driver out on the front two seats. He gave him first aid and it turned out that the wounds were superficial and he predicted he would recover quickly.
The armed men in the truck were Jewish Nationals, patrolling the road. They pulled the bus out of the embankment and drove it to Jerusalem.
That night at the hotel reception, Penelope was praised for her remarkable courage. She had displayed such skill handling the terrorists, defying the possibility that it could have meant the end of her own life. Everyone drank to her health and thanked her for her bravery.
Penelope slept well that night. In her dreams the same angel dressed in white smiled at her before disappearing. By now she was used to his visits and felt comfortable seeing him. She no longer felt afraid.
***
Touring Jerusalem was quite an experience for all. Bazaar shops lined the numerous narrow streets and children flocked to the visitors, peddling an array of souvenirs to the pilgrims. The tour guide decided to take them to Bethlehem first. Everyone walked through the small short doors of the Church of the Nativity, a humbling experience to enter the huge church. A few steps below the altar was the silver star that marks the place where Jesus was born. Penelope, along with the other pilgrims, knelt and kissed the sacred spot, praying with tears.