The story I am about to tell begins in a village called Greci, known in Albanian as “Katundi”, a municipality in the province of Avellino; a village unique in its history, rich in monuments and traditions, which owes its name to its own inhabitants: the Greeks. It is a story composed of many shades; indeed, one might say that all the emotional nuances, character traits, drama, sorrows and joys form part of this story, blending harmoniously into the balance between nature and the people of this land. I am not a writer, but I would nevertheless like to dedicate this story to someone very dear to me, whose name shall remain a secret for now. Greci is a small, agricultural village; seen at night and in winter, especially when it snows, it looks like a miniature nativity scene. It is perched on a high hill. Its territory covers approximately 32 square kilometres, whilst its population, according to the latest census, stands at 1,000 people, comprising 486 males and 514 females. The historic centre is situated at an altitude of 800 metres above sea level, and the village boasts a landscape rich in vegetation and wildlife. The most common animals are goldfinches, hoopoes, magpies, chaffinches, robins, great tits and squirrels. On occasion in winter, wolves have been spotted roaming around the village. The area is rich in water sources, whilst the Cervaro River flows through the valley below.