Rev. Fr. Tateos Abdalian
Transcription
Rev. Fr. Tateos Abdalian
WEEKLY EVENT Morning Service - 9:00am Badarak - 10:00am Guest Celebrant Today: Rev. Fr. Tateos Abdalian UPCOMING EVENTS July 19th, 2015 Rev. Fr. Tateos Abdalian Saturday July 25th, 2015: 2nd Annual Summertime Fishing Trip. Details in our Sunday Bulletin & on our website. Anyone interested in going to the ACYOA Summertime Fishing Trip to please register using the sign-up form displayed on the main wall bulletin board in the church hall under the flyer for the trip. . "Let's B uild on O ur Faith" “Daily Lectionary Readings” Isaiah 3:16-4:1. 1 Corinthians 1:25-30. Matthew 18:10-14. Wednesday August 5th, 2015: Picnic Meeting at 6:30 - Church Hall HOKEHANKISDS Wednesday August 19th, 2015: Picnic Meeting at 6:30 - Church Hall Sunday August 23rd, 2015: Annual Armenian Food & Music Festival. Details in our Sunday Bulletin & on our Website. For the Soul of Richard Bazarian (1st year) requested by: Charlene Bazarian & Family For the Souls of Garabed & Arpine Hamamjian requested by: Alice & Larry Pahigian and Family, Audrey & Jacob Pilibosian and Family For the Soul of Phillip Tanoian requested by: Esther Tanoian and Paul & Linda Doherty For the Soul of Geoffrey Gary Gostanian (1st year) requested by: Gary & Jo Ann Gostanian, Keith, Nora and Colin Gostanian, Keri & Mike Bailey, Gale & Paul Cifra "Armenian Village People: A Country Kaleidoscope” A photo exhibit commemorating the 100th anniversary of the “ALTAR DONATIONS” Altar Candles in Memory of Sister Lucy Kamitian from: Mary Tatoyian Altar Flowers in Memory of Richard Bazarian from: Charlene Bazarian & Family Altar Candles in Memory of Beloved Grandpa Richard Bazarian from: Grandsons Nuno, Evan & Ryan Bazarian NAM E DAY Armenian Genocide is taking place at the Buttonwoods Museum, 240 Water St., through the month of July. The collection by photographer Tom Vartabedian is titled “Armenian Village People --- A Country Kaleidoscope” depicts life in modern-day Armenia, a century following a devastating massacre by the Ottoman Turkish Government that killed 1.5 million people and left another million displaced from their homeland. A showing of color images represent part of a collection taken by Vartabedian during two trips to Armenia over the past decade, covering scenes of people living and toiling in the mountains and valleys. Elisha, Paul REQUEST FOR PRAYER The images depict life in this historic land whose history dates back more than 3,000 years. An illustrated talk called “Armenian Village People --- A Country Kaleidoscope” done to music will be Prayers & Get Well Wishes for all who are ill from: Eva Naroian Prayers & Get Well Wishes for all who are ill from: Bea Ohanian given Thursday, July 23, at 7 p.m., followed by refreshments. Buttonwoods is among others throughout Merrimack Valley and the North Shore which will feature the exhibit during this centennial year. Vartabedian, a Haverhill Gazette columnist, worked as a photographer for 40 years before retiring a decade ago. Much of FOR SALE ARMENIAN FORGET ME NOT FLOWER T-SHIRTS, FORGET ME NOT FLOWER PINS & BUMPER STICKERS ARE AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE. ASK ANY PARISH COUNCIL MEMBER. his photography these days is dedicated to travel and pleasure. Gallery viewings are during regular business hours. BIBLE VERSE OF THE DAY My voice you shall hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning I will direct it to you, and I will look up. Psalm 5:3 John 15:5 “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing”. TODAY’S GOSPEL READING Matthew 18:10-14 The Parable of the Lost Sheep 10 Let it not seem to you that one of these little ones is of no value; for I say to you that in heaven their angels see at all times the face of my Father in heaven. 11 [] 12 What would you say now? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone wandering away, will he not let the ninety-nine be, and go to the mountains in search of the wandering one? 13 And if he comes across it, truly I say to you, he has more joy over it than over the ninety-nine, which have not gone out of the way. 14 Even so it is not the pleasure of your Father in heaven for one of these little ones to come to destruction. A Clear Path to the Father—Prayer The European Space Agency invested millions in the Philae space probe, which traveled 284 million miles and landed on a comet. Now they can’t make contact with it. The probe needs enough light to recharge its batteries, and there is fear that the dust thrown up by its landing might have covered its solar panels. You and I, on the other hand, can make instant contact day or night with the very Creator of the cosmos. Jesus told us to go into our quiet room and talk to our heavenly Father who is unseen. He will hear every word and reward us openly. Our prayers instantaneously fly to the throne of grace where we can “obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). In Bible times, they didn’t necessarily bow their heads and close their eyes. They often looked upward and prayed to their Father in heaven. John 11:41 says, “Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me.’ We have a clear pathway to God through prayer. Make contact with Him right now and look up. Although we may not know what is around the corner, we can trust the One who called us. David Jeremiah This is a new section of our bulletin that we will be posting from January 1st till December 31st, 2015. Genocide Events and any Personal Stories will be displayed here. Anyone who would like to share a personal story from their Great Grandparents, Grandparents or Parents relating to the Genocide, please contact Rev. Fr. Vart Gyozalian - Pastor at fathervard@yahoo.com Thank You!!! Arpine Hamamjian Armenian Genocide Survivor By Kaitlyn Ballentine I woke up at 6am. I heard my brothers getting ready in the next room. They got to go to school, but not me. It was 1915 and I was only 5. “Arpine, come help me.” My mom stood in the kitchen making breakfast. I loved getting to help her. She made me feel so grown up. When I entered the kitchen she greeted me with a smile and a kiss on the forehead. She was so beautiful. I got the plates and called the boys from down the hall. Father had been in the yard, but then entered the kitchen and reminded me not to yell inside. He worked as a goldsmith in town. I was not allowed to help him. Mom said that my brothers would one day help him, but none of us were old enough yet. Mom and I sat down with the boys for breakfast. After we all finished eating, the boys kissed mom good-‐bye, dad kissed me and I walked them to the door. When I looked out I could see the sun was shining and smell the crisp spring air. I always thought April was the best time of the year. The sun always felt new and strong. As I stood there looking out, I saw all of our neighbors going to work. Life was pretty normal there. Up to that point I had spent my whole life living in Papert. I then heard a whining noise and looked down. It was my dog. Sadly I don’t remember her name anymore. Though, I do remember dad feeding her hazelnuts. Those were her favorite treat. I opened the door and she came in. She followed me as I walked back into the kitchen. Mom was cleaning up from breakfast so I started helping her. The dog laid on the floor and watched us work. Afterwards I went to play in the yard with my dog. The rest of the day was a blur. Before I knew it, my brothers and father had returned home and we were sitting down to dinner. That’s my family…my little family. We were the Tevanian’s. We were happy together and everything was good…though life wouldn’t be good much longer. April 24th. That’s when word of the first Turkish attack came through our village. Dad promised me everything would be alright and that he loved me. I know he meant it, but everything wasn’t alright and at the time I didn’t really understand what was happening. Mom and Dad tried to keep life somewhat normal even though most of the adults in the area were acting differently…a mixture of fear and anxiousness. Soon the Turks reached Papert. They took all the men and the older boys. I saw my dad, brothers and uncle die. I didn’t understand why, at the time. Even as I got older I never truly understood how someone could come and kill my family and never feel remorse. Soon after all of the men in our village were gone, Turks started taking all of the women and young children. Mom didn’t want them to take me, so when she heard of a nearby Turkish family looking for a young boy to do work, she told them she could get them a boy. She cut off all of my hair, took some of the clothes out of my brothers’ room and put them on me. I looked like a boy, though I still knew I wasn’t. She then brought me to this family. She told me she loved me, kissed me good-‐bye and then left. Later that day, the man came to talk to me. He was explaining to me what I would be doing for him. The he started to inspect me. That was a problem. He soon realized that I was a girl. He was angry. He was yelling. His face even turned a little red. I was scared. I wanted to go home. Then he told his wife that he was going to kill me. I really wanted my mom in that moment. The woman grabbed his arm and said “You can’t kill her. Not now. Not in this house. It is too late and I will not be able to sleep tonight knowing this little girl died in my house.” He promised her he wouldn’t kill me…well, not until morning. That night I was to sleep in the basement. Though, I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I was five, scared and away from my mom. Then in the middle of the night I heard footsteps. I thought for sure it was morning and I was going to die. I was surprised though, when the woman came down the stairs. She grabbed me and brought me to the backyard. She looked me in the eyes and told me to run. Run until I felt safe. The she turned and snuck back inside. I did as she said. I ran. Though I never felt safe, so I just stopped when I felt far enough away that I thought there was no way of him finding me. He never did find me. I don’t even know if he looked. I don’t know what happened to his wife when he found out that she let me go, though I do know that I owe that woman my life. I eventually ended up in an orphanage. Don’t ask me how I got there. I really don’t know. I was scared and that was a hundred years ago. I’m just happy I ended up in that orphanage. For what felt like an eternity later, you would never guess who showed up at the door: my mom! I don’t know how she found me. Some might say luck. I like to think she would have knocked on every door until she found me. She looked sick though. She had lost a lot of weight, her hair was ratty and her skin was burnt. I still saw my beautiful mother…the one that had been standing in the kitchen that day. Mom stayed with me in the orphanage for a day or two, but soon she and I left. We headed towards Constantinople. There we found a missionary orphanage. Mom was given work and they allowed her and I to live there. The people there taught me to read and write. I was much older by this point and they thought it was necessary for me to have this ability. We stayed there a few years. It was safe and we made it work. Though when I was fourteen, mom decided it was time for her and I to leave. I had to travel on my mother’s papers because I didn’t have any of my own. This meant I had to appear much younger than I actually was. This was easy though. I was petite at the time and people always thought I was younger. We ended up in Paris, France. There was a “hotel” there that was designed for immigrants that needed a home. At the time there were a lot of Armenians so mom and I felt comfortable. Soon after arriving, mom got remarried. We moved in with him and I became Arpine Balian. When I was about sixteen, mom had another baby girl…my half-‐sister. I loved playing with her. She was so small and cute. Though I didn’t know her long…for when I was nineteen I was to marry Garabed Hamamjian. He came from America in 1929 to Paris, just to marry me. He had originally immigrated to America in 1921 so when he and I returned there he had a life waiting for us. The day I left was a sad day for me. I said good-‐bye to my mom and baby sister, though I didn’t know that that was going to be the last time I ever saw my mother. We traveled to America on the boat SS America. Once in America we went to Syracuse, New York. While living in New York I began going to night school to learn English. It was not easy. I lived in New York with Garabed for about two years before having my first baby girl, Alice. She was a beautiful baby and made life in our home so happy. As Alice grew older I knew I wanted to have more children. Then in 1939 I did. I had my second daughter in the spring. Audrey was a happy baby and Alice was so excited to be a big sister. Life was good again, though every day I still lived with the memories of pain and tragedy. When the girls grew older, Alice ended up moving to Methuen, Massachusetts, after meeting a young man, Larry Pahigian. They were blessed with three beautiful children; Cary, Beth and Pam. Then in 1963 Audrey followed her older sister out to Massachusetts when she married her husband Jack Pilibosian and moved to Arlington. Audrey and Jack were married six years when they had their baby girl Julie and then four years later their son Jeffrey. My babies were happy raising their babies and that made it all worth it for me. I was the proud and protective grandmother to five amazing children, who in my eyes could do no wrong. Garabed and I were happy, though with both girls living in Massachusetts and us in New York, it got lonely sometimes. In 1976 Garabed and I packed our bags and moved to where our girls were. By living in Methuen we were just close enough to everyone. In 1979 I flew back to Paris. I saw my sister and met her family. Then she and her daughters accompanied me back to Armenia to visit an aunt and uncle that I had in Yerevan. It was hard for me. It was the first time I had been there since mom got me out, though I did it. I don’t regret it either. Seeing my loved ones was so nice. They all welcomed me with open arms. I never got to go back again, though there was always a piece of Armenia with me. In 1984 Garabed became sick. He sadly passed away leaving me in the house alone. Though I kept busy, between my five grandkids and my friends, I barely had down time. However, I always found time for my knitting. Maybe you have one of my afghans? In the later years of my life, life was pretty calm. Every year I would go with Alice, Audrey, Larry and Jack down to Florida. I would go for walks in the warm weather and Audrey would take me to get my nails done. I loved the fact they could paint a small flower on my big toes. I always got them. I saw my grandchildren grow into adults, and start families. The children meant everything to me. On my wrist I always wore a charm bracelet and each charm represented a grandchild or great-‐grandchild. I have ten great grandchildren today, eight of which are boys. They made it worth it…seeing them walk or run, hearing their voices and laughs…they made everything I fought to live through worth it. My boys: Brad, Brendan, Tyler, Conor, Parker and Jacob. I sadly never met the last two, Jack and Ryan, though I love them the same as the rest. And my girls, only two of them: Amanda and Kaitlyn. If I hadn’t kept on running, if I hadn’t stayed strong, if I hadn’t moved forward, none of them would live among you today. And because of my strength and the strength of my mother, Kaitlyn is up here sharing my story so it is not forgotten.