V.H. Apelian's Blog

V.H. Apelian's Blog

Sunday, July 6, 2025

Rev. Avedis Boynerian: “The Liberty of the Christian Man.”

Rev. Avedis Boynerian graciously forwards to me the synopsis of his Sunday service, enabling me to better follow his Sunday sermon from the pulpit of the Armenian Church of the Martyrs, in Worcester, MA. With permission, I reproduced the body of his July 6, 2025 service. July 1 is the founding day of the Armenian Evangelical community. July 4 is the American Independence Day.  Vaհe H Apelian


“You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love (Galatians 5:13).

 

The First Arm. Evan. Church was founded on July 1, 1846 in Turkey…

 

This morning, we will briefly speak about one of the distinctive affirmations and cherished values of the First Arm. Evang. Church, which is: “The Liberty of the Christian Man.” 

 

{This principle affirms the conviction that a Christian has the right 

- to think his own thoughts, 

- to make his own decisions, 

- to be his own person, and 

- to live his own life.}

 

That is, the Christian’s faith in Christ frees us from being slave to the Law.

 

{This principle does not mean - freedom to do “anything under the sun,” but 

 

- freedom to follow the command, “serve one another in love”.}

- This kind of freedom means to live a life of outgoing concern for others: “serve one another in love”. 

 

- This kind of freedom recognizes the importance of each individual, regardless of who they are. 

 

- This kind of freedom cherishes freedom of conscience.

 

Arm. Evangelicals have always believed in the right to disagree.  They have always cherished the concept that the church, being fallible - imperfect - is not the final authority; the final authority is based on biblical values. 

 

This means that religious institutions and church organizations have 

- meaning/purpose and 

- value only as they serve the needs and enrich the lives of each other.}

 

We are prone to go to extremes: 

+ One believer interprets liberty as license and thinks he can do whatever he wants to do. 

+ Another believer, seeing this error, goes to an opposite extreme and imposes law on everybody. 

 

The apostle Paul issues a caution. He says, “Do not allow your liberty to degenerate into license!” 

 

Paul’s caution is valid: {Christian liberty is not a license to sin, but an opportunity to serve, “serve one another in love”.}

 

Elisabeth Elliot, a Christian author, in her article “All That Was Ever Ours” says: “Freedom is not free, with freedom comes responsibility. 

 

Therefore, 

 

- we have to decide what we will do with our freedom in Christ … 

- we have forgotten that with freedom comes responsibility.”

 

Basically, what Elisabeth Elliot is saying is this: Our call, as Christians, challenges us to use our freedom responsibly. 

 

That is, we, as Christians, have responsibilities that come with our freedom. 

 

We have to decide if we are going to use our freedom or abuse it.

 

We, as Christians, are called to liberty. Therefore, we are free from sin, because we have experienced God’s forgiveness. 

 

We are free from sin, because Christ died for us on the cross. 

 

Sometimes we build a box of what we think a Christian is. 

 

If people do not fit into our box, we reject them. 

 

Unfortunately, we do this quit often!

 

The irony of true freedom is that it is found in serving others.

 

What God would really see us do is run from opportunity to opportunity, always to serve others and NOT ourselves.  

 

The key that makes a servant lies in the phrase “in love”. 

 

What is love and what it does.

 

Love introduces us into a new community, where we are free to love each other and - we are free to serve each other’s needs “in love”. 

 

The command “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” solves every problem in human relations (Rom. 13:8-14). 

 

Love builds bridges to new places of service. 

 

If we love people, because we love Christ, will

- not steal from them, 

- not give false reports about them,

- not envy them, or 

- try to hurt them. 

 

Listen:

 

Love in our hearts is God’s substitute for laws and threats.

 

{The apostle Paul says: “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law.} 

 

The commandments, 

- “Do not commit adultery, 

- Do not murder, 

- Do not steal, 

- Do not covet,” and 

 

- whatever other commandments there may be, are summed up in this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 

 

{Love does no harm to its neighbor. 

 

Therefore love, says the Bible, is the fulfillment of the law”} (Rom. 13:8-10). 

 

The key word here, of course, is love. 

 

The formula looks something like this:

Liberty plus love means serving others.}

 

True love means 

- be in bondage to one another, 

- be a slave to one another, that is, - do the acts of a servant.

 

Remember Jesus, who stood down and washed the feet 

of His disciples.

 

Let’s just think what we would have, if we were willing to serve each other in love?

 

Too many people look for a church with the idea of what the church can do for them. But maybe they should ask, “What can I do for the church and the members who are a part of it”.

 

Let me tell you: This is one of the reasons for coming to church, so that we can “serve each other in love.” 

 

We grow closer 

 

- as we worship God together and then 

- we learn how we “serve each other in love,” and

- be a welcoming church. 

 

God has given us a great gift called freedom. We have to decide what we will do with it; 

 

- will we use it or 

- will we abuse it?

 

{The way each one of us uses our freedom in Christ will determine what kind of church community we will be.} 

 

{If we use our freedom, as Jesus would want us, we will be a loving and welcoming church.}

 

The apostle Paul suggests that we “serve one another in love”. 

 

The word that he uses for love is “agape”. 

 

So he tells us,  “because of God’s unmerited and unconditional love shown in our life, make ourselves 

 

{a love slave toJ esus.”}

 

If we seek to serve other Christians, love other Christians and 

 

uplift other Christians, then how would the world react?

 

Let’s look around us and ask ourselves: 

 

- “How can I make the life of someone in Christ easier today? 

 

- How can I serve someone in love today?”

 

Simply put, God wants us to be motivated by His unmerited and unconditional love. 

 

That’s what He has created us for!

 

And when we do unconditionally love each other, it gives evidence of our real faith and liberty in Jesus.

 

So, we are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.

 

This is a hard command. 

 

+ It means that I want to feed the hungry, as much as I want to feed myself when I get hungry.

 

+ This means that I want to find my neighbor a job, as much as I am glad that I have a job. 

 

+ This means that I want to help my neighbor get, as much as I want to get.  

 

+ This means that I want to share Christ with my neighbor, as much as I am glad that I know Christ myself. 

 

+ This means that I care about what happens to my neighbor, as much as I care about what happens to me. 

 

Can we imagine what our church would be like, if we were all like that: To look at the person to the right and to the left and feel the same longing for their happiness that we feel for our own? 

 

Not only would the law be fulfilled, but our church would be filled with new members, because we are willing to serve one another in love.

 

A prominent Christian leader was known for his willingness to help needy individuals with their social and financial challenges.  

 

When asked why he took time out of his busy schedule to do this, he replied, “When I was a boy, I worked in our family grocery store. I was taught that I should {never ask a customer, 

 

‘is that all?’ Instead, I was told to ask, ‘is there anything else?’”}

 

I wish we would ask the same question today: “Is there anything else that I can do for you today?”

 

That is, if someone asks me to go with them one mile, let’s go with hem two miles.

 

 There was a speaker who was in the Washington, D.C. area on business at the Pentagon. 

 

He had gotten caught in an endless traffic. Spotting a runner along the road, he called out, “Which side is the Pentagon on?” 

 

Keeping his pace, the runner answered, “I think they are on our side.”

 

A church member was coming out of church one day, and the pastor was standing at the door to shake hands. 

 

The Pastor grabbed the member by the hand, pulled him aside and said to him, “You need to join the Army of the Lord!”

 

The church member replied, “I am already in the Army of the Lord, Pastor.”

 

The pastor questioned, “How come I do not see you except at Christmas and Easter?”

 

+ Serving others is not always easy, when we would rather say “my way or the highway”; but serving others pleases God;

 

+ Serving others is the way of  following the example of Jesus, who stooped down and washed the feet of His disciples.

 

 Let’s pray.


Pietro Shakarian launches his “Antastas Mikoyan, An Armenian Reformer in Khruschev’s Kremlin” book

Vaհe H Apelian

I reproduced an article I wrote about PIETRO SHAKARIAN way before the launching of his book "ANASTAS MIKOYAN An Armenian Reformer in Khruschev’s Kremlin”, which is scheduled to take place in Yerevan on 31 July, 2025.


Happenstance introduced me to Pietro Shakarian on the social media. At the time he was teaching Armenian history at the American University of Armenia (AUA). But it turned out that we also shared similar experiences. Pietro has grown up in Cleveland, the northernmost city of Ohio, while I, for the past almost a quarter of century, lived in its  southernmost city, Cincinnati.  For those who may not know, according to the late historian Garo Momjian, Ohio is where the first permanent Armenian settlement was envisioned to be, he noted in his book about Armenian history for 5th grade U.S. Armenian students.

Pietro’s father is an Armenian immigrant from Romania who left Bucharest with his family in 1960 and came to Lebanon, and lived in Bourj Hammoud where his relatives, who had sponsored the family exit from Romania, lived. While in Lebanon, Pietro’s father Berj attended the famed Armenian Nshan Palanjian Djemaran. Subsequently, through the sponsorship of ANCHA (Armenian National Committee for Homeless Armenians), the family came to the United States, first arriving in Queens, New York, and then after a short time, settling in Cleveland. It was there that Pietro’s father met his mother, the daughter of Slovak and Hungarian parents. 

Pietro received his BA at John Carroll University in Cleveland. From there he earned a Master’s Degree in Library Science (MLIS) from Kent State University in Ohio. Subsequently he received a MA in Russian studies from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. And finally, he received his PhD at the Ohio State University in Columbus, OH.

When I asked him why was he named Pietro. He said as an expression of his parent’s Italophilia. His parents are art fanatics and love Renaissance art.  Later in Cleveland, his father eventually became the city architect under Mayor Carl B. Stokes, the first black mayor of a major American city.

Growing up, Pietro said, he was highly influenced by his father’s family history, as his Armenian family lived Romania. That stirred in him an interest between communism, Armenians and the United Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). He thus ended up specializing in Soviet Armenian history. 

When I met him, he was also doing research while teaching Armenian history at the AUA. His current resume reads as follows: “"I am a historian and a postdoctoral fellow at the Centre for Historical Research at the National Research University–Higher School of Economics in St. Petersburg, Russia. I earned my PhD in History at The Ohio State University, my MA in Russian, East European, and Eurasian Studies at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, my MLIS at Kent State University, and my BA in History at John Carroll University in Cleveland. I previously taught at the American University of Armenia in Yerevan."

A few days ago, I received a message from Pietro from St. Petersburg, letting me that his: “book on Mikoyan will be published next year. It included excerpts from your translation of Antranig Dzarugian’s account of Mikoyan’s 1958 visit to the RA”.  In fact, our happenstance meeting was triggered by his reading of my translation of Antranig Dzarugian’s account of the Mikoyan’s 1958 visit to the Soviet Socialist Republic of Armenia.  Pietro is also a citizen of Armenia.

The link accompanying the message connected to me to the Indiana University Press, announcing that Pieto’s book on Anastas Mikoyan will be available for purchase shortly from their site and had the following introductory remark about the book:

“Veteran Soviet statesman and longtime Politburo member Anastas Ivanovich Mikoyan is perhaps best remembered in both the West and the post-Soviet space as a master political survivor who weathered every Soviet leader from Lenin to Brezhnev. Less well known is the pivotal role that Mikoyan played in dismantling and rejecting the Stalinist legacy and guiding Khrushchev's nationality policy toward greater decentralization and cultural expression for nationalities.

As the first major biographical study in English of a key figure in Soviet politics, Anastas Mikoyan focuses on the Armenian statesman's role as a reformer during the Thaw of 1953–1964, when Stalin's death and Khrushchev's ascension opened the door for greater pluralism and democratization in the Soviet Union. Mikoyan had been a loyal Stalinist, but his background as a native Armenian guided his Thaw-era reform initiatives on nationality policy and de-Stalinization. The statesman advocated a dynamic approach to governance, rejecting national nihilism and embracing a multitude of ethnicities beneath the aegis of "socialist democracy," using Armenia as his exemplar. While the Soviet government adopted most of Mikoyan's recommendations, Khrushchev's ouster in 1964 ended the prospects for political change and led to Mikoyan's own resignation the following year. Nevertheless, Mikoyan remained a prominent public figure until his death in 1978.

Following a storied statesman through his personal and professional connections within and beyond the Soviet state, Anastas Mikoyan offers important insights into nation-building, the politics of difference, and the lingering possibilities of political reform in the USSR.”

http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2022/07/seven-who-made-history.html

Pietro Shakariian is also a master teller of history. In a series of podcasts, he captivatingly told the story of  Armenian communists who were instrumental in shaping the Soviet Socialist Republic of Armenia. Thus far he has presented the following: ALEKSANDR MYASNIKYAN, SHUSHANIK KURGHINYAN, NERSIK STEPANYAN, AGHASI KHANJYAN, STEPAN SHAHUMYAN, ANASTAS MIKOYAN.

Sometime back, I took the liberty of copying his introduction to each and linked the accompanying podcast in a blog for the interested to hear Pietro.  (http://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2022/07/seven-who-made-history.html)

Friday, July 4, 2025

 Vahe H. Apelian

Դանիէլ - Taniel (Daniel), Դաւիթ - Tavit (David)

In an article written in 1998, Melkon  Eblighatian M.D., recalled hearing about a man known as Daye for the very first time in 1938, when he was eighteen years old. That summer his father took the family, consisting  of his younger brother and mother to spend their summer in Kessab for the very first time, having rented a room from the man Kessabtsis called Daye. The article is reproduced in the book I recently received titled “The Daye of Kessab” (Քեսապի Տային). It  means, “The Uncle of Kessab”.  Daye is a Turkish  word, and it means just that, uncle. Kessabtsis have incorporated many Turkish words in their dialect as a  result of their living under the Ottoman rule for centuries.

Upon settling in for their summer long stay, his father told him to “be respectful to the landlord”, telling him  that “although in appearance he is a modest villager, but he is a very respected person who has been a fedayee (a freedom fighter).” The person in question was Ovsia Saghdejian, about whom the book is about. 

But no one seemed to know his name, recalled Eblighatian, as he became curious about their famous landlord. His father told him that their landlord, I quote: “during the WWI, had taken part in the Battle of Arara, as a legionnaire, where he had distinguished himself for his bravery. Afterwards for many years, with a group of combatants, he had protected Kessab and its villages against lawless marauding crowds. He thus had gained the respect of not only his compatriots but the enemies as well. Perhaps that was the reason”, Melkon Eblighatian’s father had wondered that “everyone without exception, Armenians, and Turks alike, called him KARA DAYE (in Turkish the dark uncle). “ He then told his son that he too did not know their landlord’s real name.

Melkon Eblighatian, in turn, could not bring himself to muster the courage and ask their famous landlord what his name was. One day he brought the issue of Daye’s name to a family friend, Avedis Garboushian who let him know that his name is Ovsia Saghdejian. 

Upon hearing his name, Eblighatian noted that he had not heard the name Ovsia before. Avedis noted to him that after the Armenian Evangelical movement took root in Kessab, from that period  and on many Kessabtsis, I quote: “gave their children biblical names, such as Նաթանայել–Natanayel (Nathaniel), Մաղաքիա–Maghakya (Malachi), Մատաթեա–Madatya (Mattatha), Օպատիա–Obadya (Obadaiah), Ովսեա–Ovsia (Hosea), Եովել–Yovel (Joel), ՀեթեթիաHetetya (Jedidiah).” He also noted to Melkon that these names were not used in Kessab before. ( Note I listed the names in Armenian, followed by its transliteration, and put the biblical name in parenthesis.)

Apparently Avedis Garboushian forgot to note that Ovsia had a relative who was also a legionnaire and whose name was  Լէվի – Levee (Levi) Saghdejian. A formal picture of the two together graces the book. (See attached: Seated Hovsep, standing LtoR: Levi and Ovsia Saghdejians).  Our grandsons' names are Daniel,  and Levi.

The Armenian Evangelical denomination was founded in Constantinople in 1846. Not long after its founding, it found a receptive audience in greater Kessab and six years later, in 1852, the Armenian Evangelical school was established in Kessab, that continues its mission to this day at elementary and middle school level. The Armenian Evangelical movement gave rise to a spiritual, cultural, and educational renaissance in Kessab that profoundly influenced the character of the Kessabtsis. 

I had often wondered why my paternal uncle was named Ճոզէֆ – Jozef (Joseph). In our family tree that traces 10 generations along patriarchal line, his name had no precedent. After reading Garbsoushian’s explanation, it occurred to me that he too may have been named Joseph for that very reason. In fact, in his village of Keurkune, several of his contemporaries were his namesake, such as Joseph Bedirian, Joseph Kerbabian. It is not uncommon to come across Biblical names in Kessab in their Latin scripted sounding, such as Ճէմս–Jams (James) as in the persons of  James Bedirian and James Apelian of Keurkune, or the graceful Անժէլ–Anjel (Angel) in the person of Angel Megerditchian; or Martha (Մարթա) as in the late Martha Apelian-Titizian; Էֆի(Effie), a maternal aunt to my maternal cousin Annie Hoglind. She may be named after the beloved American missionary in Kessab, Miss Effie Chambers. 

The name Ovsia remained etched in Dr. Melkon Eblighatian’s memory. More than half a century later he consulted Hrachia Ajarian’s (Acharian’s) exhaustive dictionary on “Armenian Proper Names” - (Հայոց Անձնանունների Բառարան) - in five volumes that includes all names mentioned in Armenian literature from 5th to 15 centuries. He found out that the eminent Armenian linguist has noted in his dictionary that Ovsia is Hebrew in origin and that it means  “to help, free, save” and furthermore he noted that “the name is not used with us.” («Նշանակում է օգնել, ազատել, փրկել։ Այդ անունը մեր մէջ գործածուած չէ։»

Upon reading the explanation of the name and the lack its use among the Armenians, Melkon Eblighatian  became reflective and wondered writing how strange it was and what mysterious serendipity drove the parents to name their village child Ovsia. He concluded his article noting that it seemed preordained that the child would be named so. His endearing name Kara Daye, the Kessabtsis bestowed upon him – Melkon Eblighatian reasoned - was the people’s testament that the child lived up to the true meaning of his name as an adult. 

Note: Cover:  “The Daye of Kessab” (Քեսապի Տային)



Thursday, July 3, 2025

Under One Roof

 Vaհe H. Apelian

During a good part of my childhood in our ancestral home in Keurkune, Kessab, we and our domestic animals lived under the same roof. Today I read that “studies show that children raised in rural areas with exposure to animals and nature tend to have stronger immune systems and lower risks of mental health issue than urban children with little contact with pets or the outdoors.” I am not sure what kind of study backed the statement on the attached poster, but I thought it made sense as I was reminded of our ancestral home.

I spent my teenage summers in Keurkune, Kessab in our paternal grandparents’ house with them and with my Uncle Joseph and his family as one extended family. In fact, my brother Garo spent a year or two in his early childhood in Keurkune year around. Kessab is an ancient Armenian enclave in Syria and borders Turkey at northwest.
My paternal grandfather Stepan had become the natural inheritor of the family’s ancestral house, as he was the only survivor of the genocide perpetrated against the Armenians. The house is built with double layered stones. On the outside, the walls remained uncovered and each stone block remained visible. The inner surfaces of the outer walls and as well as the inner walls partitioning the rooms were covered with a special mix the villagers made to plaster the walls. It was a mix of minced wheat stalk and clay that put a heavy white to off-white plaster coat on the walls. In hindsight, I realize that the coat acted as an excellent insulator against cold and moisture. On one of the inner walls, there was a cavity that probably was made by design by not placing a stone there. The cavity served as the treasury of the Keurkune’s church where my grandfather kept the meager Sunday offerings of nickels and dimes he collected in a tin can.  
A typical house in Kessab then
The width of the outside walls is such that, as a kid, I used to sit on the window sill and gaze at the mountains. The windows had wooden panels for cover but no glass. The floor and the ceiling were made of wood. Wooden logs extended from wall to wall. On these wooden logs, wood panels were fastened. Some, if not most, of the ceiling logs were blackened over time. It was said that the blackening was also due to the attempted torching of the house. Turks, who had taken over the house after forcing the local Armenians out had attempted to torch the house when they vacated the region and fled as The World War I was ending with the defeat of Turkey that would lead to the dismemberment of the once powerful Ottoman Empire. Among the blackened wooden logs across the ceiling, a few silkworm cocoons had remained lodged. They were yellowed a bit but remained very visible against blackened logs. My grandparents had raised silkworms at one time.
 The roof of the house was covered with special blue dirt the villagers called "kuyrock". There were a few quarries in the vicinity of the village that yielded this bluish stone. These blue stones are light and easily crushed. They were overlaid on the roof and rolled over with a big round stone that used to be found on the roof of each house. During rain, the roof would leak at times. The next day I would see my grandfather laying more blue dirt at the spots and go over them with the roller.
The interior of a typical house in Kessab then.
The house, much like the other houses of the village, had a special place for clay water jars. My grandfather filled the earthen jars with water he fetched from the spring. It was my treat to have him seated me on the saddle of our donkey on the way to spring. He fetched the water in four tin containers. Two tin cans were placed on each side of the saddle. After he filled the tin cans with water, he capped them with small gasli - laurel – tree branches with leaves on them. On our return, I would trail the donkey with him. At home, he poured water from a tin can into the two earthen jars we had at home. As I grew older I could tilt the jars myself and fill the brass cup we kept next to the jars. We all drank from the same brass cup. Water from the jar remained refreshingly cool to drink. I later learned that it is due to evaporation as the clay jars were porous and they would ‘sweat’ and evaporation kept the water surprisingly fresh and cool to drink, in a natural cooling process, during the hottest days of the summer. As to brass cup we shared, I learned later that brass is antibacterial.  Copper ions from the brass kill bacteria. 
My father and his brother, my uncle Joseph in their home,

Almost every room of the house had a fireplace. My grandmother and Aunt Asdghig prepared food on the fireplace in the room we used as the kitchen and the dining room. The fireplace in the other rooms was used for warmth during the cold days of the winter. At times my grandmother would cook in these rooms as well. Smoke coming from the chimney of a house meant life. Woo (վայ) to the house that had no smoke coming from its chimney. Hence comes the common Armenian expression we use to this day: Moukh Marel, մուխը Մարել (extinquish one’s smoke). 
 The house is two stories high and each floor was an almost exact replicate of the other with a center hall with a door opening into each of the four rooms on the second floor. Two rooms of the first floor did not have a door that opened to the central hall and could only be accessed through its adjoining front room, each of which had a door that opened to the central hall. For a while, we used the lower right-hand side room as the kitchen and the dining room. We sat on the floor around a round floor table. A kerosene lamp illuminated the table during dinner. Its adjoining inner room was used to store hay for the animals. We called the room hartanots.
My aun Asdghig who passed away recently and my paternal grandmother Sara.

For many years the lower left-hand side room, which also had a door that opened to the courtyard, served as the stable along with its adjoining inner room and housed our chicken, donkey, and cows. The ceiling of this front room that served as the stable i.e. the floor of the upper room had collapsed during the baptism of my father and had remained unfinished up to my early teens. Therefore I would view, by looking down the door on the second floor, the stable below on the first floor. I have seen our cow give birth to a calf there and our chicken nest and end up with colorful chicks that immerged from the eggs to my utter impatience and periodic checking with my grandmother. These naturally raised chicks were colorful and beautiful indeed, unlike the dull off-white colored chicks grown commercially nowadays. The animals and we lived under the same roof.
The courtyard was walled. The oven – toneer – was located on the right-hand side of the entrance. Further to its right was the outhouse. My grandmother baked bread in the oven.  Every week she would prepare the dough a day before and make a cross sign on the dough and cover it to ferment. The next day she would bake the bread by plastering the handful pieces of wetted dough on the inner side of the upright oven heated by burning sticks.  It was customary for us kids to visit the ovens of the village after the baking was over to fish charred bread pieces remaining on the inner wall of the oven. We called these charred and blackened pieces of bread kurmush. Charred as they were, but they tasted great! Later on, my Uncle Joseph had a bakery erected on the same spot and operated it for many years. He ran the bakery once a week and more often during Christmas and Easter. The villagers would bring their dough there to bake bread or the different pastries they made on special occasions.
Our grandfather returning from the market on a Saturday and being met by the younger grandchildren and grandmother
There was a mulberry tree in the courtyard, a remnant of those days when they raised silkworms. The tree also supported the grapevine that gave succulent red-colored grapes we called ouzoumlek. These types of grapes are not used to make grape molasses and are only for consumption as fruit for dessert.
The courtyard would become busy in the evening as our grandfather returned from the fields. The cows would be milked and then driven to the staple. The chickens would naturally head there in the evening and get their sleep above ground on logs. My grandmother would collect the eggs the hen laid. She could tell that a hen had laid an egg by the hen’s vocalization during the day. I later learned that hens lay eggs only during the day. That is why the lights remain on day and night over the commercial coops for hens to continue laying eggs day and night.
The house had a wooden balcony on the second floor. Spectacular view came into view from the balcony and the far ends of historical Antioch where Apostle Paul reached proclaiming the Good News. An invisible border separated Syria from Turkey.  Parts of the serpentine road that connected the region to the world beyond also came into view. We used to call the road zivti Jampa, which means the paved road. It was then the only road in the region that was paved and connected Kessab to the outside world. I believe the road was laid and paved by the French during their colonial rule over Syria after the First World War.
My father Hovhannes and his mother  Sara.

Our grandfather Stpean was born in 1897 and was driven out in 1915. He never alluded to the house as having built after he was born. In all probability, the house was built in the later part of the 19th century. The house is well over 100 years old and bridges three centuries, 19th to 21st. The house had remained as it was up to my early teens. Additions and renovations have changed the house. However, the main structure of the house is the same as a testament to its solid stone foundation. Rarely has a house remained with an Armenian family for over 100 years. I am not sure if our paternal grandfather was born and raised there, but three generations of his descendants were born in there: my father Hovhannes and uncle Joseph, my cousins, both of whom studied in the American Universit of Beirut. Stepan, studied agriculture  and Ara studied medicine; and Stepan’s children Tsolag, an engineer with a Ph.D. degree, Shoghag and Hovag, being the last. 

A snap shot from my childhood days.