Remembering your birthday with appreciation, praise, tender loving care, and love, Your father and mother. And my wish is that God would grant you long and very joyous days. 1 A memory, 1916 Ovsanna, ten years old, with her master tailor in 1916; and in 1965 again we went to New York, Boston and spent the night at her master's home. Such caring stories and feelings! Dream or reality? ALTERNATIVE VERSION: A memory, 1916 Ovsanna was ten years old when we visited her master tailor in 1916; and in 1965 we again went to New York, Boston and spent the night at the home of the master. Such caring stories and feelings! Dream or reality? 2 Sweet licorice root, Potatoes, Onion layers -- a great deal of, Mushrooms, Mountain almonds, prickly tree... Sparrow-green flower -- very delicious "Blorig Yonja", which grows abundantly near the streams, and very delicious, "Goullek" green grass, They used to cook (the above) with cracked wheat Pilaf -- it was very delicious. Wish it were a few years back in time; then my writing too would have been delicious to the reader. Old age is hell because of merciless and savage people.1 1 Hampartzoum's childhood memories as a young boy of 7-8, gathering greens and flowers to delight family members as a treat of each season of the year... written 2-3 months before his passing in May of 2003! Visions of his cherished childhood would not stop! 3 In the Armenian Protestant church hall, Kaspar (my twin) grouped with the little ones, and I with the larger ones. Whence I met Korr (blind Turk) Mamoe: Desperate for news; Appalled at the river bank... the beheaded. The holy place (orphanage): An orphanage and a Catholicos in unison with my religion. This saintly name written within my heart (Archbishop Kud) Mkhitarian, a helpful soul. A helpful soul commensurate with "my father." Likewise, Archbishop Nerses Melik-Tankian in Tavriz, who, successfully dealt with 20 thousand refugees, unlike other dithering clergy. ... German orphanage: one child starving, one child fainted.2 2 To his last breath, Hampartzoum continued to write...the torment mingled with the solace: an irreconcilable anguish. 4 We are the brave children of Dalvorig, We do not bow in front of the Turks. Our eyes have never looked upon the plough-haft or the plough. Let us unite and forge ahead, Let us shore up Tashnagtzoutioun. 5 I AM ONE OF THE SURVIVORS OF THE TURKISH ATROCITIES 1915 I never did forget - 6 years as a slave. Whoever hides an Armenian will be thrown to jail for five years with a chain around his neck. Those Armenians who read this statement wished to turn into a mouse and hide in a hole in order to survive. I am one of the survivors of the Turkish Atrocities in 1915. I never forgot that I was a slave for 6 years. 6 When the town crier was shouting this, you wished you turned into a mouse and found a hole and disappeared into it: "Whoever harbors an Armenian, Will get five years under lock and chain." Turkish sayings: The offsprings of Armenians growing up enter the ground. May the last thought of an Armenian be mine. Now, the son of an Armenian Gyavour is here. The mind of the Armenian says "Don't do it." When you find a person standing in front of you, and if you want to do something, do something good and throw it in the water. The fish won't know, but Khalekh would. My father was an artisan -- a chitji, who performed the difficult job of printing and decorating fabric. We, brothers, gladly helped him out. There was a lot of fabric. We used to take them to the river, which wasn't very far, and then washed, tinted and dried them. The chore of making food fell on my mother, while my aunts and sisters took care of our clothing needs. Where we 7 were, there was very little fabric or cloth that came from the outside. Most households performed every step locally: to purchase cotton, to spin in order to make threads, to weave cloth, to cut and sew clothes and linen. Similarly, we spun wool for socks and sweaters. My aunt performed all the following chores: washing, bathing others, cleaning the house. They only bought fabric (from abroad) to make clothes for the women. There was so little of it that they took great care so that the clothes didn't wear out fast. We had an orchard where we dried mulberries and made syrups and dried-preserves (bastekh) with them. Similarly, we made raisins and wine from the grapes. My elder brothers took care of the vineyard -- and after they were gone, I did. We had a Tonir (hole-in-the-earth oven) at home. They used to bake bread for two days. Whenever a client came, it was customary to lay out a table full of bread, yogurt, tahn, etc. And when the guest came at night, they used to give them a bed, and if he were wet, they used to dry him. There was no tradition of restaurants. They consider the guest the pride of the home. With the emotions of a survivor: To Jackie, a friend of my beloved daughter, Kind, humble Jackie... 8 You owe me a great deal, How are you going to pay? With genuine love and kisses, And by singing with your precious voice. My wish is to hear your voice over my grave, So that I may take it with me. Continue to remain like twin sisters with my Zarug. I wish the two of you Happy Days. Hampartzoum Chitjian, February 16, 1986. 9 Henry Kurkjian I swear in front of 40 witnesses, the One God plus the 39 sacred letters (of the Armenian alphabet), that I will be a good husband to Jackie. Henry Kurkjian Remember when it was written and read it emotionally. November 26, 1972 The only way to a solid marriage, the proverbs says, is not to be like a hatchet which always points toward you, but to be like a saw, which goes equally toward you and toward us. Hampartzoum Chitjian You enjoyed great days with her; keep this in place of the Holy Book. On the day of this marriage ceremony, the gift of God poured over our dining table, when I saw happy faces all around -- my daughter Zarug already a school teacher, and also Jackie -- these two treat each other with love and respect, like twin sisters. She will join with an honorable, kind, and humble young man, promising to form a humble family. It was a happy day for me. 10 WHO, WHO? When I go to sleep in the evening, Who guards over me without sleep? Who smiles when I wake up...? -- My dear mother. Who would sacrifice her soul for me? Worries, pain and trouble Who bears them all for me...? -- My dear mother. When I return home from school, Who gives me a palm-full of Raisins, nuts and delicious almonds? -- My dear mother. 11 The meaning of this monument is that it arouses memories of a sad past. (In response to Governor Deukmejian's letter severing his ties with the Armenian National Committee for supporting Clinton's candidacy and not Bob Dole's, Hampartzoum writes:) "That's all we needed. In my advanced old age, should I believe this or not? I wish I were blind and never saw it and read it. Unbelievable but true. I have been present at this monument every April 24, from the time they started building it to today. Over ten thousand Armenians have gathered, but with cold hearts and in a splintered state. Party members, clergy, neutral ones, and well-known personalities scream against the Turks seeking revenge. But their voices have not been heard in any other languages, and they haven't achieved anything. The Turkish proverb says: Armenians pass their days screaming "lakh, lakh" like storks. Another proverb says: The dog barks but the caravan never deviates and proceeds on its path... and for me, they were right. I used to return home in a sad mood. Although there wasn't a big crowd this year, I had the opportunity to hear the voice of the spouse of the honorable Bob Dole. It was like the whole world was given to me. With a loud voice she shouted that only Bob Dole would present the wishes of the Armenians to the world. The hope given by the great Congressperson regarding the genocide was like the voice of God. I became so raptured that at the end of the event, I approached the honorable angel, Mrs. Dole, and told her that I was a ninety-five-year-old survivor. She shook my hand. I turned away and after walking a few feet, one of the Armenian scouts said to me that she wanted to see me again. She grabbed me and hugged me. Never in my life had I experienced such an occurrence. God was with me. 12 I have suffered a great deal, remembering my father's, mother's, brother's, sister's bones and the bones and bodies of my relatives. Armenians unite. Think wisely. Beware of the positions you are taking. Do not push away those who survived the cruelties of the Turks... I am old and pains are many, many. A survivor without hope, H. Chitjian 13 Comments regarding the Armenian Observer articles on Karabagh. The Armenians of Armenia should be esteemed a thousand-fold.