Zarouhie Ghukasyan's Stories
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“Dad, will you hold me, please? Please, dad…"
I liked when daddy held me in his arms when I was a child, even when I had learned how to walk, I still liked this.
I didn't like walking, it was tiresome and my dad or my uncle usually held me in their arms. But I was rather heavy. For them, too, it was tiring and difficult to hold me for a long time.
My uncle offered me this idea, “Let's do this. You tell me when you are tired and I will hold you.”
“I will tell you, uncle.”
Now I smile when I remember this and I ask my dad from time to time, “Will you hold me, dad?”
Wrote at 13 years old age
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Almost all the holidays are in spring. One of these holidays is the Beauty holiday, on the 8th of March. My classmates had prepared some presents for us on that day. Some of our boys were standing near the doors and they didn’t let us in. But we noticed an unusual confusion in the classroom. When we were already tired of waiting finally the boys let us in. The blackboard was decorated with the balloons of different colors like red, yellow, green, blue and etc. The presents were on the piano. The boys brought some needles and suggested us to blow up the balloons. We found some papers in the balloons on which some numbers were written. That was the numbers of our gifts. We liked the way they had decided to give us the presents. We received our gifts and went home.
Wrote at 12 years old age
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Mother and I go to St Gregory's church every week. We see many people there, among them an old woman who prays for God to find her sons. They were lost during the war; they have displaced her and taken away her sons. She is a refugee and lives near our place in a kindergarten. Instead of taking pleasure in her children's and grandchildren's presence, she lives in the kindergarten, watches other children, waits for hers and prays.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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“Mom, is this band OK for my hair?”
“Yes,” said my mother coming up to me. Then she glanced at my rings.
“Take out these rings right now”, she said.
“Please, mum!”
“I said, TAKE THEM OUT.”
“But all the girls wear rings.”
“At school?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“They even wear bracelets and necklaces.”
“Let them wear, not you.”
I did not want to put myself in comparison with other girls but one ring wouldn’t really make much difference. It made for mum.
“My classmates wear rings, why shouldn’t I?”
“Ms. Chobanyan will get angry.”
I stopped arguing, what sense? I went to the wardrobe and left the rings there.
Just like every day.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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I was making much noise in the kitchen. I was six at that time.
“What are you doing?”
“I am looking for copper.”
“What do you need it for?”
“I am cooking a dinner for my baby.”
“What baby?”
“Ann, the little teddy that dad gave me.”
“What do you want to cook?”
“Tasty dinner with pasta.”
“Mom, are the greens in the fridge?”
“Yes.”
“Mom, I need help.”
“I am listening.”
“How much water shall I take?”
“A cup for now.”
“A cup?”
“Yes,” said mom.
“Is it enough?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Zara, your teddy isn’t going to eat your soup. You better try to cook something for us. When daddy comes, we will have dinner all together. ”
“I cannot.”
“With my help… You cut the greens and I will bring the pasta. ”
“Tell me how to cut.”
“Just take the knife and cut it. I will peel the potatoes and you will cut them too.”
“OK, mom.”
I cut the greens and the potatoes with great difficulty. It was six o’clock, the time when dad usually comes.
“Wash your hands, dad, I am setting the table.”
Dad came. The air smelled burnt. The soup had boiled and spilt on the gas oven. We sat at table and tried to eat the dinner I had cooked. It was hard to pretend, but we ate it as we had nothing else cooked. Dad liked the soup though it tasted burnt; he did his best to make me feel good.
Wrote at 13 years old age
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“Mom, did you see her clothes?” said a stranger’s voice.
“Yes, I did. She was so ugly. And the face, did you see it? No make up at all.”
“And look at this one. The dress is torn, the pants are dirty.”
“He looks awful.”
“He is so lazy that he does not want to take care of his appearance.”
While my mother and I were walking down the street we heard many conversations about passers-by like this.
“Mom,” I asked, “Why are they criticizing each other so much?”
“I don’t know. They don’t understand that not everyone can be well dressed. Maybe they are too spoiled.”
Wrote at 13 years old age
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“Let’s celebrate the 8th of March somewhere,” said father.
“That’s a very good idea,” added my brother.
“Now let’s choose.”
“Restaurant is the best place to go,” I said.
“So you have time to think it over.”
“It is better to stay at home,” added my mom.
“We must go somewhere so that we good memories,” said father.
“Wait a minute; my aunt has decided to take you and your sister to restaurant on that day.”
“But what if the boys invite us to a cafe or somewhere on that day? What am I going to do in that case?”
Then I had an idea.
“If my classmates decide to invite us it will be till 2:00 in the afternoon. So I will go out with my aunt after 2:00, and we can go to a restaurant in the evening.”
“Let’s wait and see,” said my mom.
We should not plan anything beforehand.
Wrote at 14 years old age
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