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"Dove"

It is a name meant, also, to symbolize the soul and peace.

In 1915, at the age of four, Aghavni the little dove found her place of peace in an orphanage in Lebanon. Like thousands, Aghavni Gevorgyan was separated from her family when invasions by Turks made orphans of Armenian children. “Little Dove” was sent to a home for children, founded by Americans and Danes.

She had been there eight years when word came that she had a brother, who was waiting for her outside the orphanage gates.

“What is a bother?” little bird asked. “Brother is a close relative,” explained her teacher.

Aghavni remembered that she had a brother. But the young man outside the orphanage was not someone she recognized. Aghavni resisted his hugs. After finding out the “brother” was not married, the headmaster did not allow him to take little Aghavni away although she had reached the age when the children usually were to leave the orphanage.

In fact, Aghavni had two brothers, both of whom she was separated. One, Hovhannes, settled in France, never to see his family again.

Aghavni’s cousin, Armenuhi, also was living in Lebanon. One day she recognized Aghavni among the orphans. And another new “nest” was found for Little Dove.

Sometime later – and 17 years since disappearing – a more familiar face returned to Aghavni’s life.

A photo with her mother reminds her about their reunion in 1932, and still brings tears of joy to Aghavni’s 96 year-old pale cheeks.

“My mother had a scar on her neck. I used to ask her what it was and how it had happened,” Aghavni recalls. “It was only when I had my second child that she told me the cruel story of it.”

She had a gold chain on her neck. During the resettlement, the Turks wanted to tear it off, but could not. It was an old peace of jewelry made by Armenian artisans and it did not come off easily. As a result of Armenian craftsmanship good job and the cruelty of Turkish regulars, her mother came to wear a scar instead of a gold chain.

In 1933, Aghavni married Gevorg in Aleppo. Gevorg was from Western Armenia and was rescued by a family of Turks who were sympathetic to the Armenians.

He learned about being an Armenian from a Turkish boy who named him “Gyavur”. The mistress of the house where he lived explained him that “Gyavur” meant Armenian.

“What is Armenian?”

“You are.”

“In that case where is my mother . . .”

This is how the boy of about 12 learned about his ethnicity and had so many questions, answers to which he thought he could find only in his village. The quest for the answers led him back to his village, his aunt’s house and his sister.

Aghavni interrupts her story here saying, “Old people talk much and the more they talk the more grief you learn.”

Aghavni and her husband moved to Armenia in 1946, bringing their 6 children with them. They had three more in the motherland. They rented an apartment in Arabkir district near a dry cleaners.

They had hardly moved in when a young woman came with a request to fix the key of a suitcase. They were lucky since Aghavni’s husband, Gevorg, was a craftsman and could repair nearly everything. But even luckier was Aghavni, as the woman was to travel to Western Armenia, and could bring some news from Aghavni’s brother whom she lost after 1915. And she did.

Aghunik (a term of endearment) also tells the story of her younger brother, Hakob, who was also saved after Turkish attacks. Saved, like Gevorg, by Turks. And remembered, like her mother, because of a scar.

The scar would mark his face when he together with his brother were helping their father to shoe the horse. Little Hakob was not strong and skilled enough to hold the horse’s leg and the horse kicked him.

Once again, a Turkish subject lent a helping hand to Aghavni’s family. One of the Turkish shopkeepers burned horse’s mane and put it on the child’s eye, saving it. After Turkish attacks started, the same man paid a Kurdish man several gold coins for him to take the boy across the Euphrates and threatened that he would find him and kill him in case he didn’t take the boy away. Hakob was saved.

He moved to Armavir, Krasnodar region in Russia and found a sellers’ job in an Armenian's shop and settled down. He married the shopkeeper's daughter. They had two children.

In 1937, there was an announcement according to which all those who wanted to leave the country were free to go in 24 hours. Hakob did not. He had a family and he was already settled down. Nevertheless, he managed to send a note that he made on a cigarette paper where he wrote, “The wound above my eye is cured”. The note reached Aghavni and she knew he was alive. However, they never met.

Aghavni had nine children. Five of them are now alive, but only three live in Armenia. She lost contact with her brother and nephews who are now in Russia and France. Those in France know little Armenian and cannot keep in touch.

The one named Little Dove has tried to bring her family together. It seems, though, that the events of 90 years ago are too far reaching, even after wounds have become scars ...