500 Units- Transfiguration Greek Orthodox Church

A soft afternoon light flows through the stained glass windows, casting a golden shadow across the pews and reflecting off of the ornate mosaic-covered walls. Children fidget, playing with dolls and toys their parents brought to keep them entertained during the Divine Liturgy. When they are scolded by their mothers, the children turn to their grandmothers, who welcome them with open arms. Altar boys dressed in silken robes stand patiently while the priest reads from the Gospel. The priest's voice wavers through the church, joined by the choir. Old and young voices combine with his to create a sweet melody. One of the youngest altar boys grows restless waiting during the seemingly endless service, and begins to sway back and forth.

When it ends, everyone gathers in the basement for the coffee hour. A line forms for the special Sunday donut and coffee, or orange juice, and chatter fills the room. Cacophony fills the room when the youngest Sunday School children are let out of class. They run to the piano on-stage and pound away at the keys with their fists, laughing as they try to create a melody.

The Transfiguration Greek Orthodox Church has been home to the Greek Orthodox of the Lowell Acre since 1956. The priests have changed throughout the years, but the families that have attended the church have been the same. Some families have been members of the Transfiguration parish since it first opened its doors. The church not only represented a place of worship, but also an opportunity for Greeks from all different villages to come together under one roof, in a new country. They built the church up together, creating a place they could call home, and their future children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren could also call home.

Families that have attended the church a very long time sit in the same pews every Sunday. The Yiayias lean on their canes, their white-gray hair set in perfect curls. The Papous stand by their side, wearing their best suit and tie. Their weak eyes peer over their gold-rimmed glasses as they read worn Bibles and sing along with the choir in their soft, old voices.