Two fathers - Երկու հայրեր

 Բնագիրը կցուած է։ In 1907, on the day of Khrimian Hayrik’s funeral on November 6, the Tiflis newspaper “Nor Alik” (“New Wave”) had published the following short story by Hovhannes Tumanyan titled “Two Fathers.” I copied the reproduction of the story from Arevelk.am. Tumanyan and Khrimian Hayrik are spelled as in Wikipedia.

 

“Two Fathers”, by Hovhannes Tumanyan

 

It was the winter of the 1896 massacres. A group of refugees from the region of Sasun arrived in Etchmiadzin. Among them was the elderly Der Sargis from the village of A.

“I wish to kiss Hayrik’s hand,” he requested at the veharan  (the Catholicos’s residence). He was allowed inside.

“Welcome, Father,” Hayrik said, extending his hand.

The priest kissed it and stepped back, standing in the middle of the hall—weary and broken.

“Where do you come from?”

“From the region of Sasun. I am Der Sargis from A…”

“Der Sargis from A…?”

“Yes, Hayrik.”

“And…?”

“I had a family—a household of twenty people, Hayrik.” They slaughtered my sons, took away my daughters-in-law, my grandchildren are gone; they looted my home and set it on fire... and I am left like this...

— Well, now...

— I want nothing, Hayrik. I... I just came... came to tell Hayrik... I want nothing more...

And there stood before Hayrik a man who had lost everything and wanted nothing.

Both remained silent.

— How many sons did you lose, Father Sargis? — the Catholicos asked, lifting his head.

— Twenty in total, Hayrik.

— You have lost twenty sons, and I have lost twenty thousand, — Hayrik replied. — So, twenty thousand, plus twenty. Whose loss is greater, Father Sargis?

The priest shuddered and stood in silence.

— Whose grief is greater, Father Sargis?

— Hayrik’s.

— Then come, Father Sargis—come closer—place your right hand upon my head; pray, and bless me, that I may endure this grief.

He spoke, and bowed his head. The priest hurried forward, placed his right hand upon his Pontiff’s head, and began to murmur a prayer. His eyes were filled with tears.

He was blessing the Catholicos of All Armenians! 

Before him, bowing his head was the father of All Armenians.

***

1907 թվականին, Խրիմյան Հայրիկի հուղարկավորության օրը (նոյեմբերի 6(19))-ին, Թիֆլիսի «Նոր ալիք» թերթում տպվում է Հովհաննես Թումանյանի «Երկու հայր» փոքրիկ պատմվածքը, որի հերոսը Խրիմյան Հայրիկն է:

 

                                  Հովհաննես Թումանյան

                                        «Երկու հայր»

 

1896-ի կոտորածի ձմեռն էր։ Մի խումբ փախստականներ Սասունի կողմերից հասան Էջմիածին։ Նրանց մեջն էր եւ Ա. գյուղի ծերունի տեր Սարգիսը։

-Հայրիկի աջը կուզեմ համբուրել,- խնդրեց նա Վեհարանում, ու ներս թողին։

-Բարով, տեր հայր,-աջը մեկնեց Հայրիկը։

Քահանան համբուրեց ու ետ եկավ, կանգնեց դահլիճի մեջտեղը հոգնած, խորտակված։

-Ո՞րտեղից կուգաս։

-Սասունի կողմերեն. Ես Ա-ի տեր Սարգիսն եմ…

-Ա-ի տեր Սարգի՞սը…

-Այո՛, Հայրիկ։

-Է՞…

-Ես քսան հոգուց գերդաստան ունեի, Հայրիկ. տղաներս կոտորեցին, հարսերս տարան, թոռներս կորան, տունս թալնեցին, վառեցին․ մնացի այսպես…

-Է՜, հիմի…

-Ես ոչինչ չեմ ուզում, Հայրիկ։ Ես… այնպես եկել եմ… եկել Հայրիկին ասեմ… էլ ոչինչ չեմ ուզում…

Ու Հայրիկի առջեւ կանգնած էր մարդը, որ ամեն ինչ կորցրել էր ու ոչինչ չէր ուզում։

Երկուսն էլ լուռ էին։

-Քանի՞ որդի կորցրիր, տեր Սարգիս,- գլուխը վեր քաշեց կաթողիկոսը։

 -Ամենքը միասին քսան, Հայրիկ։

-Դու քսան որդի ես կորցրել, իսկ ես քսան հազար,- պատասխանեց Հայրիկը,-այդ էլ քսան՝ եղավ քսան հազար ու քսան… Ո՞ւմն է շատ, տեր Սարգիս…

Քահանան ցնցվեց ու լուռ կանգնած էր։

-Ո՞ւմ վիշտն է մեծ, տեր Սարգիս։

- Հայրիկինը։

-Դե, ե՛կ, տեր Սարգիս, մոտ ե՛կ, աջդ դիր գլխիս, աղոթիր, օրհնիր, որ այս վշտին դիմանամ։

Ասվ ու գլուխը խոնարհեց։

Քահանան շտապեց առաջ, աջը դրավ իր Հայրապետի գլխին, սկսեց աղոթք մրմնջալ, ու աչքերը լցվեցին արտասուքով…

Նա օրհնում էր Հայոց Կաթողիկոսի՜ն… Նրա առջեւ խոնարհած էր Հայոց Հայրիկը…

Chkam ayntegh - Չկամ այնտեղ

 Chkam ayntegh - Չկամ այնտեղ

In Google translation

 

I don't want there

I don't want there, where you didn't leave your footprints on the sand,

where the seagull's longing without wings, where the seagull's longing without wings

fused with the old dream of the water.

 

I am there, where a voice was on your lips, the familiar shore trembles,

where your eyes fly, where your eyes fly

swim calmly in the sea of ​​the sky.

 

I don't want there, where the day doesn't cloud the softness of your hair,

where the tears of the trees are resin, where the tears of the trees are resin

cleanse a caring deer.

 

I am there, where you don't turn your gaze from the door in hope,

where, having become a child, cheerful, where, having become a child, cheerful

you make a snowman.

 

I don't want to be where the steamboat hasn't sung its song loudly,

where the sky has understood, where the sky has understood,

that it has become orphaned without you.

 

I am there where I am not,

I am just around you, ignoring you.

 

Even a day without you, you know,

my day without your sun,

Living is in vain, perhaps.

Բնագիրը՝

Չկամ այնտեղ

Չկամ այնտեղ, ուր չես թողել հետքերը քո տակավազին,

որտեղ ճայի կարոտն անթև, որտեղ ճայի կարոտն անթև

ձուլվեց ջրի հին երազին։

 

Ես կամ այնտեղ, ուր ձայն էր շուրթերին՝ ծանոթ ափի դողում,

որտեղ աչքերն են քո թռչում, որտեղ աչքերն են քո թռչում

երկնի ծովում հանդարտ լողում։

 

Չկամ այնտեղ, ուր օրը չի ամպի քո վարսերից մեղմիկ,

ուր ծառերի արցունքն է՝ խեժ, ուր ծառերի արցունքն է՝ խեժ

սրբում մի հոգատար եղնիկ։

 

Ես կամ այնտեղ, ուր դու հույսով

հայացքդ չես թեքում դռնից,

որտեղ մանուկ դարձած՝ զվարթ, որտեղ մանուկ դարձած՝ զվարթ

դու պատրաստում ես ձնեմարդ։

 

Չկամ այնտեղ, ուր շոգենավն իր երգը չի երգել ուժեղ,

որտեղ երկինքն է հասկացել, որտեղ երկինքն է հասկացել,

որ առանց քեզ է որբացել։

 

Ես կամ այնտեղ, ուր ես չկամ,

քո շուրջն եմ ուղղակի՝ անտես։

 

Մի օրն էլ առանց քեզ, գիտես,

իմ օրն առանց քո արևի՝

ապրելը զուր է, երևի։

Was it Stockholm Syndrome?

 Reproduced from my article I posted in Keghart.com on January 14, 2014. Vaհe H Apelian

Stockholm Syndrome is a term I came across for the first time in my freshman Psychology 101 course. It was an elective course. The term gave me a whole new perspective about my maternal grandmother’s unusual recount of her ordeal during the Genocide.

My maternal grandmother: Karoun (Apelian) Chelebian

Wikipedia defines it as follows: “Stockholm syndrome, or capture–bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. The FBI’s Hostage Barricade Database System shows that roughly 27% of victims show evidence of Stockholm syndrome.” Psychologists offer varying explanations to this seemingly contradictory behavior. It may be that it is the last resort to safeguard one’s sanity.

My paternal and maternal grandparents were orphaned survivors of the Armenian Genocide. They were driven to their extermination along with the rest of their parental families and Kessabtsis in July 1915. The popular account in Kessab is that their ordeal lasted three years and three months, placing their return to their villages sometime in the fall of 1918 to weather the winter ahead without necessary provisions. Somehow, they made it, so to speak.

My maternal grandfather Khacher Chelebian

I was their firstborn grandchild. Their other grandchildren would trail me by some six years and longer. It may be because of that I seemed to have enjoyed their special attention, although I did not have the pleasure of knowing my maternal gradfather, Khacher. He had passed away at the age of 38 due to ‘pneumonia’ leaving his young wife, my maternal grandmother Karoun (Apelian) Chelebian, a young widow raising their 2 sons and their 2 daughters. Their eldest child, my later maternal uncle, Dr. Antranig Chalabian, was a 10 years old lad when his father passed away.

My paternal grandfather Stepan Apelian

My paternal grandfather, Stepan, was a quiet man. His whole life outside his family and work in the fields, revolved and involved the Armenian Evangelical church of Keurkune, which he served his whole life as its life-long treasurer and trustee until almost the last few years of his life. He was very evasive when it came to my youthful curiosity about his life during the Genocide.  He had a brother named Garabed, who passed away presumably during the catastrophe. My brother was named after him. He also seemed to have a sister who survived the Genocide. We never found out where she lived.

My paternal grandmother Sara (Mousajekian) Apelian

My paternal grandmother, Sarah, was a gregarious woman. She had become de facto medical custodian of the village. There was no birth, dislocated joints or broken bones she was not called to attend. Our grandparents’ house was the only one in the village that was known after her instead of her husband, when households in greater Kessab were referred to by the patriarch of the family. She was very young when she also embarked on the perilous journey. That may be the reason why she did not have much recollection to share.

My maternal grandmother’s case was altogether different. I associate the Armenian Genocide with her more than with anyone else. She was fifteen years old when she was driven from her home with the rest of her parental family. She was a refined woman in manners, in conversation, in her choice of words. She stood apart. Almost every evening I would find her kneeling on her bed and praying with a barely audible but intense murmur. My mother has told me that she read the Bible once a year, every year. She had her family’s milestones inscribed in a beautiful handwriting in a Bible that I now treasure.

My maternal grandmother Karoun (Apelian) Chelebian with her children and their spouses and her first grandchild, me.
Standing LtoR: Hovhannes Chelebian, Zvart (Chelebian) Apelian, Hovhannes Apelian, Antranig Chelebiab, 
Seated LtoR: Kohar (Apelian) Chelebian, Vahe H. Apelian, Karoun (Apelian) Chelebian, Siran (Toutikian) Chelebian

When the family talk came to Genocide, she would tell us that the Turkish gendarmes that accompanied their caravan displayed empathy. They would encourage them, she would tell us, to endure a bit longer for their ordeal would soon be over. They showed care and concern to their plight, she would say. I was a high school student and I would often wander how that could be for often at night she exhibited a scary scene. Every now and then, far into the night, when everyone in the family would be sleeping suddenly she would scream in a terrifying agony and fear. We would immediately rush to her bedside and wake her up. I do not recall seeing her sweating or showing any outward sign of distress. She would then go back sleeping peacefully completely oblivious of the experience a moment ago.

It was in that Psychology 101 class when the day’s lecture dealt with Stockholm syndrome that it occurred to me that my maternal grandmother demonstrated the symptoms of that affliction.

***

I took leave of her in July 1977 in the midst of the Lebanese Civil War. I was to embark on my own immigrant’s journey to the United States. My maternal uncle and aunt told me that she had agonized over my departure and passed away that very night after an apparent stroke. We heard the news of her demise the next day through a radio station. I had crossed West Beirut and could no longer return. My uncle accompanied her body to Kessab and had her buried next to her husband and daughter in the Keurkune’ ancient cemetery. My mother decided not to wear black. She did not want to bid me farewell in sober attire.

Those were hectic days. After all these years, and whenever I think of those days, I see my mother waving a white handkerchief as the boat sailed into the sea and she disappeared from view. I also cannot do away with the association of Stockholm syndrome and my maternal grandmother’s unusual depiction of her ordeal during the Genocide even though many of my family members have told me that it was her deep-seated Christian faith of forgiveness that drove her and not such a syndrome.

 

 

Schahan Tchapraste

Vaհe H Apelian

Vote for Schahan Tchapraste to be the next Top Host. Only two days are left.

I met Schahan and his younger brother Vazken in Beirut. They are the sons of Yetvart Tchaprast, who was a prominent Armenian stage actor. Their father had brought his two sons to Beirut to study Armenian in the famed Jemaran.  His father stayed at Hotel Lux, an inn that my father ran whose guests were overwhelmingly Armenians. That is how I came to meet him and his brother. We were middle school and then high school students

It was apparent then that Schahan was drawn to theater and stage. I recall him talking to me of taking part in a student stage. After his graduation they returned to the U.S. 

Decades later, thanks to Facebook, I was able to contact him. I put an appeal on Facebook to contact Shahan Chaprast. Little did I know that he spelled his name Schahan Tchapraste. 

His years in Armenian school have impacted his life for the better, he told me, when I asked him how does he now assess his few years stay in Beirut, studying in Jemaran. He wrote. “The six years I spent in Beirut attending Djemaran were magnificent! I'm a little different from most Armenian/Americans because my mother was Italian. Vasken and I were born in Milano, and we came to the U.S. when I was 3. Our early education was typically American but that changed when we went to Beirut. My feeling is that my education was superior to most other types of learning. I became multi-lingual, I learned so much about my Armenian heritage and I think it made me more knowledgeable about the world we live in. My college education was based on the arts because I attended the Boston Conservatory of Music and followed, for a few years, in my father's footsteps. I truly think that my six wonderful years in Beirut made me a better person. “

His natural affinity to stage, seems to have shaped his career. He wrote to me that “Once upon a time, I was “Doc”, Bugs Bunny’s friend on stage in The Bugs Bunny Follies. I traveled the US and brought laughter and fun to many kids and their parents. I had a lot of fun too.” “So, vote for me,” he wrote. Naturally I did. In fact, I did a promotional voting as well, having cast 10 votes in his favor, because as far as I am concerned, I rank him 10 out of proverbial 10.

Schahan Tchaparate is also the author of three books listed on Amazon.com. He had titled them, “Genocide Fugue”, “Love and Murder in New York City”, “In the Shadow of Ararat”.

At a certain point in time, he has gotten off the stage but has remained with theater. He wrote. “I had a career in theatre for almost 30 years! After performing for 12 years, I became a talent manager. I had a couple of reasonably popular stars.”

Take a moment and vote for Schahan Tchapraste. He says,” I was a performer for 30 years, I’m an author with 3 novels available on Amazon. I have an impressive background (in my not so humble opinion).I think so too.

Take a moment of vote for Schahan Tchapraste by clicking the attached link. ((https://tophost.org/2026/schahan-tchapraste?fbclid=IwY2xjawU7Y1FleHRuA2FlbQIxMABwZG9mAWJyaWQRMUQ5Y3pIT21lbHFHTXN3Q1FzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeiKnJzktk2WW_NLbsy-7Rl9LZtd-260zyjzKVOsiixpVKBsfUYoTKCSqwifw_aem_M4eNheytx_SkMfw5KAbHFw)  

Link: The Tchaprasts: https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-chaprasts.html

 

 

Ընդիմադրութեան խորքը ի՞նչ է - What is the essence of the opposition?

Avo. G Boghossian and his wife are formerly from Lebanon, and have settled in Armenia. For archival purposes, I attached the brief exchange I had with him on his Facebook today, pursuant to his posting. Vaհe H Apelian

Avo G Boghossian - Ժողովրդավար երկրի մէջ պայման է եւ օգտակար ընդդիմութեան գոբութիւնը, բայց, ես մեր ընդդիմադիրներուն ելոյթները չեմ կրնարկոր հանդուրժել։ In a democratic country, the existence of an opposition is both essential and beneficial, yet I cannot tolerate the addresses of our opposition figures.

 

Vahe H. Apelian – Նմանապէս ես ալ։ Ընդիմադրութեան խորքը ի՞նչ է Հայաստանի համար՝ ՌԴ-եան ծայրագոյն գաւառը դառնա՞լ, առանց այդ մէկը հանրութեան հրապարակելու։ The same goes for me. What is the essence of the opposition for Armenia —becoming a remote province of the Russian Federation without publicly admitting it?

 

Avo G Boghossian – այո. Yes

 

Vahe H. Apelian- Իսկ Արեւմոտքի սփիւռքի այն յատուածը որ նեցուկ է ընդիմադրութեան, Հայաստանին եւ Սփիւռքին համար ի՞նչ նպաստ կը տեսնէ այդ խաքաղաքակնութեանը սատարելով։ Պարզապէս կարծիքդ. And what benefit does that segment of the Western Diaspora—which supports the opposition—see for Armenia and for the Diaspora in backing that political line? Just your opinion.

 

Avo G Boghossian - ոչ մէկ, ու աւելին, գաղափար ալ չունին ու միայն սփիւռքեան քարոչամեքենային զոհն են։ None, they have absolutely no idea—quite the contrary—and are merely victims of the Diaspora’s propaganda machine.

Effie M Chambers (Oct 3, 1863- Oct 3, 1947)

 The beloved missionary among the Kessabtsis passed away today, on October 3, in 1947 in her native state Iowa. I posted the article I wrote that the online journal Keghart.com posted. It was the first time that the Armenian readership was getting to know about her. The article was posted on November 4, 2009. 

I first heard Miss Chambers’ name in my early teens. It may have been from my maternal grandmother or someone else of her generation in our extended family. My recollection puts me in company of family and friends in Keurkune seated cross-legged on the floor under the dim light of the kerosene lantern chatting of the bygones. Other than the endearing memories she had left behind, nothing else seems to have been known about her, not even her first name. She was simply the beloved Miss Chambers of the Kessabtsis who uttered her name in one breath and in local accent making Miss part of her name but not the title.

My curiosity of her rekindled recently upon reading Haigaz Terterian’s article about the founding of the Kessab Educational Association in 1910. Haigaz, quoting Dr. Albert Apelian, makes reference to Miss Chambers’ positive influence in fostering education and learning in Kessab at the turn of the 20th century. Coupling her name with Kessab I embarked on a search trusting that the powerful Internet search engines Google and Bing will shed some light about her. Not only I found more than I was expecting, but I also serendipitously came across her grand niece’s email, a lady by the name of Danette Hein-Snider who has been doing research on her grand aunt’s life and has managed to gather quite a bit of material in way of photos, reports written from the field, newspaper articles, and personal letters.  

From missionary Effie M Chambers archives

Mrs. Danette writes “She (Effie Chambers) first planned to enter the missionary field with her soon to be husband. But unfortunately he did not pass the physical, and so she had to make a choice to stay home and marry or go to the missionary field. She chose the missions and left her fiancé’ and never married. Her home was burned at least twice and her friends insisted that she come home, but she told them God sent her to the Armenians and He would tell her when she was supposed to leave, and until then she would live with them and care for them to the best of her ability.”

Her obituary states that “Miss Effie Chambers, fourth child of Mary and Harlow Chambers, was born 3 October 1863, at the family home north of Anderson (Iowa). She was one of eleven children, six daughters and five sons, seven preceding her in death. Her education was begun in a rural school close to this home and then moved to Sidney to enter the public school, where she prepared herself for teaching. At this time she united with the Presbyterian Church in Sidney under the pastorate of Rev. H. B. Dye. She taught in the Fremont County Schools, and then entered Iowa State Teachers College at Cedar Falls. Then she was given an appointment as teacher in the Creek Indian School in the Indian Territory, where she decided on Foreign Missions as her life’s work. To prepare herself for this work she entered Tabor College, receiving her diploma in June 1893, and was accepted by the Congregational Board of Foreign Missions, and in the fall of 1893 sailed for Turkey, in Asia. There she remained 19 years in the service of Christ.” 

Miss Chambers did not go to Kessab when she first moved to Turkey. A report by the Woman’s Board of Missions in 1898 places Miss Effie Chambers in Ourfa. Ephraim K. Jernazian in his book Judgment Unto Truth: Witnessing the Armenian Genocide translated into English by Alice Haig, places Miss Effie Chambers in Urfa in 1896. The 1905 Mission Studies: Woman’s Work in Foreign Lands, Volumes 23-24 report that Miss Chambers has gone to teach in the Aintab Seminary. Both Urfa (Ourfa) and Aintab, depopulated of their Armenian inhabitants now, had sizable Armenian populations then. 

The 1904 Annual Report of the American Commissioners of Foreign Mission, to the credit of the Kessabtsis reported the following: “Miss Chambers’ first year in Kessab has been a good one in spite of many trying circumstances. The people welcomed her coming with cordiality and have aided her in many ways. The people here are not close-bound by customs and are ready to learn and put into practice new things. The Sunday school has about a thousand pupils. Miss Chambers makes earnest request for another lady to join her in this promising work at kessab”. It is not known if another lady joined Miss Chamber. She stood alone in the memories of her contemporaries in Kessab. Her grandniece, Mrs. Danette reports that she found these verses in her writings: *Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ”. Galatians 6:2 *The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few.” Matthew 9:37

Thus we can safely conclude that Miss Effie Chambers arrived to Kessab in 1904 and remained there until her return to the United States in 1912 and thus endured the atrocities along with the rest of the Kessabtsis during the 1909 massacres.

The embroidery Kessab Armenian Revolutionary Federation presented to her in "abiding gratitude, we will never forget" 

The New York Times on Monday April 26, 1909 reported the following: “Constantinople, April 25 – Dispatches reaching here from points in Asiatic Turkey bring tidings of Armenian and Turkish conflicts all over the country. Dr.JM Balph, who is in charge of the missions at Latakia, Syria, telegraphs that the refugees are arriving there from outlying parts of the district who report massacres and the burning of towns. He also reports that there are the gravest apprehensions concerning the conditions at Kessab where Miss Chambers is one of the missionaries”. Edward Latimer Beach in his autobiography titled ‪From Annapolis to Scapa Flow states that Miss Chamber’s presence in Kessab became a justifiable cause for foreign powers to interfere in Kessab and prevent further atrocities in protecting an American citizen. Dr. Albert Apelian in his book in Armenian entitled Kessab and its Villages states that 152 persons, mostly old and young were killed during the pogroms, 516 houses, 62 businesses and 4 churches were destroyed causing widespread despair.

After the atrocities Miss Chambers stayed with the Kessabtsis and worked to ameliorate their situation. The June 1911 Missionary Herald reports the following: “ With us in America the memory of the Armenian massacres of 1909 in the region of Adana may be becoming dim; on the ground the misery they entailed is very real and present. At Kessab they have yet no church building to replace the one that was destroyed, and Miss Effie Chambers is almost heart broken at finding no place where can be gathered the remnant of the church, further discouraged and burdened by the sufferings of a terrific winter. What is most needed is uplift of spiritual life, and this is hard to promote with no meeting place for worship and fellowship. If the money could be found for rebuilding, it would not only provide a sanctuary, but as well timely work for the people, to help them get their bread. Though the missionary herself with the rest is in need of clothes and a comfortable bed, the cry is not for these things, but for help that will prevent the passing of another winter without the blessing of a church home. It seems to this lone woman, tugging at her task, as though help for her distressed flock must come from those who are more abundantly provided with the aids and comforts of religion.”

The dire circumstances took a toll on Miss Chamber’s heath as well. Her obituary states that her health was so affected that she returned to the United States in the spring of 1912, where she spent several years lecturing for the cause of Foreign Missions. On Wednesday May 8, 1912 College Eye, a publication by the students of Iowa State Teachers College, reported that “Miss Effie Chambers who graduated from the Teachers College some thirty years ago is spending a few days in the city. Miss Chambers has been engaged in missionary work in Armenia for several years. It will be remembered that she is responsible for sending Bedros Apelian to the college to complete his education. Miss Chambers addressed the students on her work in Armenia at the regular prayer meeting hour last Sunday night”. After Iowa Rev Bedros Apelian continued his education at the Columbia University and served his calling on the east coast and among others officiated the wedding of Henry and Virginia Apelian on April 4, 1959. Miss Effie Chambers spent the remaining years of her life with her brother Will in the old family home where she died on October 3, 1947 at the age of 84 and was buried in Chambers cemetery, which was given to the community by her grandfather, Ezekiel Chambers, in the year 1857.

Thus ended the life of Miss Effie Chambers, who left an indelible and enduring impression on her contemporaries in kessab some of whom as pupils in her Sunday school or as young men and women carried her memory into their old age and passed it to the next generation. The legacy of her contribution to the Kessabtsis endured, however much like other unwritten stories, over time she faded into oblivion to have rightful place in the memories of the younger generations of Kessabtsis.

 

 

Republic of Armenia National Values

 Vaհe H Apelian

Armenia celebrated the 35th anniversary of its independence on September 21 with nationwide celebrations culminating in a major concert, light show and fireworks displayed at Republic Square in Yerevan. 

The celebration was under the "auspices" of Hazaran Blbul (Հազարան Բլբուլ),  a mythical "Bird of a Thousand Voices" whose magical song could heal the land, restore life, and bring about peace and prosperity. I had not heard of this ancient Armenian folktale mythical bird before, of which the all-Armenian-poet Hovhannes Touanian is claimed to have captured in a poem.  Hazaran Bulbul was depicted hoovering in the sky over Yerevan during the celebration.

The  first 40 minutres of the program featured the Armenian State Symphony Orchestra under the direction of conductor Sergey Smbatyan, the Hovhannes Tchekidjian National Academic Choir and the Karen-Sevak Band. Subsequenly  popular Armenian performers  took the stage. 

In between, between 40 minutes to 43 minutes, the two masters of the ceremony, a man and a woman, took turn in reading national values they claimed the Armenian Republic upholds. 

I had not experienced such an episode before in any of the independence day celebrations I had watched. I painstakingly copied what they read. 

After jotting down the national values that were read at the Independence Day celebration, it occured to me  that they were the ones PM Nikol Pashinyan had already outlined in his May 7, 2024 press conference.  (see the link below).

National Values: 

Independence – Sovereignty – Citizenship – Democracy – and the Army. Անկախութիւնը – ինքնիշխանութիւնը – Քաղաքացիութիւնը – Ժողովրդավարութիւնը - եւ Բանակը։

 

History of Armenia – Armenian Folklore – Epics – Legends – Myths. Հայաստանի Պատմութիւնը - Հայ բանահիւսութիւնը – Էպոսները – Լեկինդները - Առասպելները։

 

The Armenian Language and Writing – Armenian Literature and Science – Knowledge. Հայոց Լեզուն եւ Գրելը - Հայ գրականութիւնն ու Գիտութիւնը -Գիտելիքը։

 

The Pan-Armenian strength—the Armenian Diaspora. Համահայկական մերուժը - Հայկական Սփիւռքը։

 

The Holy Armenian Apostolic Church – The Armenian Catholic Church – The Armenian Evangelical Church – Christianity. Հայ Առաքելական Սուրբ Եկեղեցին - Հայ Կաթողիկէ Եկեղեցին - Հայ Աւետարանական Եկեղեցին - Քրիստոնէութիւնը։

 

The Fatherland/Homeland – the Family – the Individual. Հայրենիքը – Ընտանիքը - Անհատը։

 

Armenian Ashugh, Kusan, Folk, Classical, Composed, and Pop Music. Հայ Աշուղական – Քուսանական – ժողովրդական – Դասական – Հեղինակային -  Էսդրատային Երաժշտութիւնը։

 

The Armenian Dance Art – Visual Art – Armenian Architecture – and Armenian Performing Arts. Հայկական Պարարուեստը – Կերպարուեստը - Հայկական Ճարտարուեստը - ու Հայկական Բեմարուեստը։

 

The Armenian Highland and its biodiversity. Հայկական Բնաշխարը իր կենսաբազմազանուտութեամբ։

 

Progress – Love of Learning – Liberation – Hospitality. Յառաջդիմութիւնը. Կրթասիրութիւնը – Ազատագրութիւնը -  Հիւրասիրութիւնը։

 

Compliance of the law – Humanitarianism – Respect and tolerance towards the religions of other peoples and nations. Օրինապահութիւնը – Մարդասիրութիւնը – Յարգանքն - ու  Հանդուրժողականութիւնը այլ մարդկանց եւ ժողովուրդների կրօններուն նկատմամբ։

 

Fraternal relations with the national minorities of the Republic of Armenia, expressed through Armenian citizenship. Հայաստանի Հանրապետութեան ազգային փոքրամասնութիւնների հետ եղբայրական յարաբերութիւն արտայայտուած Հայաստանի քաղաքացիութեամբ։ 

 

Armenian Heritage: the tangible and the intangible. Հայկական Ժառանգութիւնը՝ Նիւթական եւ ոչ-նիւթական։

 

The Republic of Armenia is our hearth, our home. The people are our family, our heart. We must educate ourselves and develop, and we must develop Armenia. Հայաստանի Հանրապետութիւնը մեր օճախն է, տունը։ Ժողովուրդը մեր ընտանիքնս է, մեր սիրտը։ Պէտք է կրթուիլ, զարգանայ, եւ զարգացնել Հայաստանը։

 

It does not matter where you work or what kind of specialist you are. What matters is how you work and what kind of specialist you are. Կապ չունի որտեղ ես աշխատում, եւ ինչ մասնագետ ես։ Էականը թէ ինչպիսե՞ս ես աշխատում, եւ ինչպիսի՞ մասնագետ ես։ 

 

It does not matter in which city or village you live in; what matters is the kind of citizen you are. What is essential is to be law-abiding, improve your education, not pollute your environment, and not tolerate injustice or wrongdoing—whether directed at you or at others. It is about participating in elections and being a demanding citizen, one who holds others accountable, and, why not, making your mark on the world. Կապ չունի թէ որ մէկ քաղաքում եւ կամ գիւղում ես ապրում։ Էականը թէ ինչպիսի քաղաքացի ես։ էականը լինել օրինապահ, բարելաւել կրթութիւնդ, չաղտոտել միջավայրդ, չհանդուրժել քու կամ դիմացինիդ հանդէպ անարդարութիւնը կամ հանցանքը։ Մասնակցել ընտրութիւններին, լինել պահանջատէր, պահանջուած, ինչու ոչ աշխարհում։

 

To participate in the selection process, to be a claimant—and one who is sought after—why not, on the global stage.Մասնակցիլ ընտորթեան, ըլլալ պահանջատէր, եւ պահանջուած, ինչու ոչ, աշխարհում։

 

To get educated, to work, to grow strong, and to stand firm on the land—such is Armenia. Կրթուիլ, աշխատիլ, ուժեղանալ եւ ամուռ կանգնիլ հողի վրայ՝ այսպէս է Հայաստանը։

 

Link 1: National Values: Nikol Pachinyan’s May 7 press conference - https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2024/05/roa-pm-nikol-pachinyans-asoulis.html