By the time my tour group stood in front of the Treasury of Athens near the entrance of the Oracle, I had a new plan. My wedding ring would be a votive offering as I silently asked the question I'd brought to the oracle. Dropped into some crevice between ancient stones, it would come to rest with centuries-old fragments of statues and shards of pots. But the rings were still stuck.
I asked my question anyway despite the fact there's no priestess anymore. In the 11th century B. C., the first priestess was a young virgin, our tour guide had told us. After she was abducted, future priestesses were 50-yr-old women--wives and mothers from the community. If there had been a wise old priestess there to answer the question I asked about love, I wonder what she would have told me.