On the fifth day of rain, they start finding snails even inside the house. All of them, as if hypnotized by the monotonous rhythmic dripping on the roof, watch them climb with their characteristic crawling on the walls. But when on the sixth day they wake up almost before dawn from a slimy touch on their feet, the children look at each other conspiratorially and silently begin to collect the snails one by one with the focus of a surgeon. When their older brother, Thodoris, enters the house, they have already gathered them and are holding them in a small bundle. "Bless you! On my scarf, really, did you find to put the snails?" Their mother, Zambia, sighs half-asleep. She doesn’t have the heart to scold them any further.

"Well then, I promise you that tomorrow we will eat freshly baked bread. I will go to Tripolitsa to bring flour," says Thodoris, and his siblings start jumping and shouting happily. Thodoris is carried away by their enthusiasm and laughs with them. Their mother looks at him puzzled. "It’s not raining. It’s drizzling today. Sooner or later the weather will calm down. By noon, if not earlier, the sun will come out. There’s no reason for me not to go, mother." He has made up his mind. He barely slept the previous night. He had his ear tuned, hoping the weather would finally calm down and the rain would stop. Indeed, just before dawn, nothing could be heard.

"The rain stopped, huh, Thodoraki?" he heard Giannos whisper next to him. They shared the same mattress. They on one and their mother with Eleni and Christos on the other. Giannos, although the youngest, wanted to sleep with Thodoris. "Aren’t you sleeping?" "I can’t. My stomach hurts." Thodoris knew why the little one’s stomach hurt: from hunger. But he said, "Sleep and it will pass." He covered Giannos and got up. There was no room for him. He had to do something so they could eat some bread. Even if he was only twelve years old, he was the oldest and their mother had no one else to help her.