“We can’t just stand here in the rain with our backs to the town,” said Baucis. “I’ll look if you will.” “I love you, Philemon, my husband.” “I love you, Baucis, my wife.” They turned and looked down. They were just in time to see the great flood inundating Eumeneia before Philemon was turned into an oak tree and Baucis into a linden. For hundreds of years the two trees stood side by side, symbols of eternal love and humble kindness, their intertwining branches hung with the tokens left by admiring pilgrims.
