At the beginning of this chapter, it seemed as though it would only be possible to define Hestia through a series of absences. The stories we don’t have, the statues we don’t see, the wrath she doesn’t display, the battles she doesn’t join. But – even if Socrates is a little tongue in cheek with these definitions – he does offer a different way to respond to Hestia, and it’s one that rings true, for me at least. This is a goddess who doesn’t often do, but always is. She is the heart of your home and mine, the heart of our cities and temples alike. She is our warm homecoming, our baked bread,
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