“And you do not remember that dark and beautiful face, with large brown eyes like a wild deer’s, that used to bend above your cradle? You do not remember the voice which told you each night to cross your fingers after the old Greek orthodox fashion and utter the words – Στο όνομα του Πατρός και του Υιού και του Αγίου Πνεύματος! – ‘In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost!’ She made, or had made, three little wounds upon you when a baby, to place you according to her childish faith under the protection of those three powers, but especially that of Him for whom alone the nineteenth century still feels some reverence, the Lord and Giver of Life. And you know nothing about her? It is very strange.<br>

Perhaps there is much I do not know, But I know that mother was a Cerigote, belonging to one of the best families of the island Cerigo – the antique Cythera. English regiments were stationed there including the 76th about ’57 – ’58. My father was attacked by mother’s brother, terribly stabbed, and left for dead. He recovered and eloped with mother when the regiment was ordered away. You were born in Cephalonia; I and another brother in Santa Maura – where the other was buried, I think. We were all very dark as children, very passionate, very odd-looking, and wore gold rings in our ears. Have you not got the marks yet?”
Excerpted from Lafcadio Hearn’s letter to his brother James Daniel Hearn