It is almost April 24th.

April 24th, 1915 marks the official “beginning” of the Armenian Genocide…the Genocide when 1.5 million Armenians were brutally massacred.

Every year, at this time, Armenians all over the world remember the Armenian Genocide.

And every year at this time, we wait with bated breath to see if governments around the world, most notably American leaders, will officially recognize the first Genocide of the Twentieth Century. Will they use the word “Genocide” to describe the horrors that my ancestors suffered?

The stories my grandpa would tell us… stories of forced marches when he was just a seven year old boy… the horrors he witnessed all around him as he walked through the desert with other Armenian women and children, somehow making it alive to end up in a new country… the stories he told my mom, uncles and aunts, the stories my grandmother told them (she passed away long before I was born)…all send shivers up my spine… I am amazed that two young children survived such a nightmare, met each other years later, got married and began a new life together…

How did they endure that pain? How did they persevere through so much death all around them? The loss of parents, siblings, relatives, friends… the loss of home…

One thing I know, both my grandparents had a deep sense of faith which had been instilled in them from a very young age…I know by their own accounts that that faith gave them hope… that faith in God must have propelled them to take one more step…

Here is a photo of my beloved Grandma, Armenian Genocide Survivor…while I never met her, I feel a very close connection to her… she inspires me deeply. It pains me to think of what she endured as a little girl during this horrific time in our history. But it brings me great joy to know that she was a woman of hope and faith. She is an example to me.

My Grandma, Mariam Markarian, Armenian Genocide Survivor.

Tags: Armenian folk song, Armenian Genocide, Genocide, grandfather, grandmother, massacres, twentieth century