Joanna Kakissis

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MICHEL MARTIN, HOST:

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SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

For Greek citizen Katerina Bouretzi, seeing the leaders of the eastern and western churches together on her island of Lesbos this weekend was a gift.

"The refugee crisis put Lesbos on the map but it also isolated us from other Europeans, who like to blame us for everything," she said. "They blamed us for allowing the refugees to cross the Aegean, and I thought, 'What are we supposed to do, drown them?' And then they blamed us for being nice to them after they arrived here."

The migrants on rafts began landing on the rocky shores of Lesbos a year ago. In a pretty village of colorful fishing boats, one of the first people they saw was Efstratia Mavrapidou, 89, who was born here. She's fragile, her eyes clouded by cataracts. But she made her way to shore by cane.

She wanted to be there to embrace the migrants crowded onto those rafts, especially the young mothers who wept as they clasped tiny, sea-drenched babies.

On a cold, rainy morning a few weeks ago, eight black inflatable rafts, loaded with migrants, bob in the waters off the northern shore of the Greek island of Lesbos.

One of them isn't moving.

Vassilis Hantzopoulos of the Hellenic Red Cross points to the horizon.

"This boat up there?" he says. "No engine. Failure of the engine. That's it. So they ask for help from the coast guard."

A Norwegian rescue boat with the European Union's border agency, Frontex, heads toward the distressed raft.

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