It was one of those nights where you know, as soon as that first card is dealt, it's going to be a good night. This is going to be a good hand. There's almost an electricity about it, and excitement.
I felt I had the lucky hand, and even though the first cards didn't promise a winning hand, I played them until to the end--and the final card drawn was my winner.
But the day was about more than just poker and winning back the money I lost a few nights before. It was about wishes coming true--not from this year, but from last year. I'd made a wish before I left Greece last summer that I'd almost forgotten about it--I remember thinking last year, "It's going to happen. I believe it."
But on this day (July 11th) I received another lesson in patience, that holding out in hope sometimes offers the luckiest hand.