Gossiper (April 1999)
|
“Mother\'s jewelry and my bleeding legs”
“Yoy, where is my jewelry?” asked my mother.
Yoy was how Mom gently called me when I was a child. I've started my story with Mom's jewelry since I adored wearing all kinds of rings, necklaces, earrings, bracelets and also mother's high-heeled shoes in my childhood. After putting on all these things, I would go outside and run around. Can you imagine me running in high-heeled shoes? Right, it is really difficult to imagine such a thing, but try to and you will find me lying on the ground, having hurt some parts of my body, crying heavy tears.
“Mom, I hurt my leg. It's bleeding! Mom!”
Then many tears followed…
I ran and ran and ran until I noticed once the tears were gone, there were no more high-heeled shoes, rings, bracelets and bleeding hurt legs.
“Yoy, where is my jewelry?” asked my mother.
Yoy was how Mom gently called me when I was a child. I've started my story with Mom's jewelry since I adored wearing all kinds of rings, necklaces, earrings, bracelets and also mother's high-heeled shoes in my childhood. After putting on all these things, I would go outside and run around. Can you imagine me running in high-heeled shoes? Right, it is really difficult to imagine such a thing, but try to and you will find me lying on the ground, having hurt some parts of my body, crying heavy tears.
“Mom, I hurt my leg. It's bleeding! Mom!”
Then many tears followed…
I ran and ran and ran until I noticed once the tears were gone, there were no more high-heeled shoes, rings, bracelets and bleeding hurt legs.
Eleonora Harutyunyan
14 years old
Find Eleonora Harutyunyan's  stories (13)
^ top
|
“Live Concert”
Books lay in disarray on the floor of the empty room. We were busy repainting the walls of our house. We were newcomers but knew nearly all the neighbors by face. To tell the truth, that was not too hard a thing to do. Our apartment was on the ground floor with an open balcony. Our curious neighbors took advantage of that fact and often peeped in to see what we were busy with.
“Have they added anything new today?” an old woman asked and took a seat near the others. They had even put a long bench under the balcony to be able to follow every step of ours and analyze whatever we did.
“Nothing new, I think,” answered another old lady, who was cleaning green beans and placing them in a pan full of water next to her knees. “They are just painting walls over there”. “Are they?” asked the newcomer.
I glanced around and caught some tension in the eyes of the workers. Judge for yourself, is it pleasant to work knowing that you are being watched, and having people discuss whatever you do? “I wonder why they paint the walls white,” mumbled an old woman sipping her coffee. “Green, dark red, but never white. White is not for walls.”
My father blushed in anger but didn't utter a word. He is a patient man.
“Renovations, renovations!!” exclaimed an old man coming out of our exit. “The renovation has started and I wasn't told, what a shame!”
In a minute he was gone but then was back again with some buddies of his. They hadn't forgotten to bring the backgammon, a couple of chairs and a table. “Hi, everybody,” cried one of the old men, waving at us. Old men are different; they don't just sit like the old ladies do. They take active participation in all the repairs -- sharing opinions, giving advice, talking directly to the workers, the main characters in the spectacle.
“So, you are painting the walls today? You'd better ask for advice, we may be of help,” said an old man shaking the backgammon dice in his fist.
“Oh, you are so kind,” mumbled one of the workers to himself but he only smiled to the old man in response.
“I don't think you hold the brush the right way,” cried one of the old men in a high tone.
“Thanks a lot, I think I do things the right way,” answered the house painter, smiling.
“The right way, hmm…,” smiled the adviser in a self-contained manner.
The advice sessions followed one another until the evening. The best thing about old people is the fact that they go to bed early. It is only after their departure that we could take a breath.
“I'll move from this flat as soon as an opportunity arises. These people think they have come to watch a performance which we are the main actors of”, father said.
“We are fish in an aquarium with fish for them would say,” mother added gloomily.
I was about to say that a zoo was the most suitable description for the situation, but the sudden sight of a stranger standing in the room scared me to death. He gazed at the walls with a master's calm look, and then added quietly but in an even tone, “So, you are renovating,” he said. No one answered. We were horrified. “Oh, please don't answer. I know everything. You look tired,” continued the newcomer and smiled. No response followed.
“I knew it, I knew it sirs. I have fish… just caught them. Do you want some? It's cheap, 100 drams each.” He showed us the product and continued talking “Quite the wrong idea about the oven. Instead of switching it on to cook this delicious fish, you are sitting on it.”
Our cries full of indignation stopped the man from talking more and he left the same way he had come, i.e. the balcony.
Similar stories accompanied our work throughout the renovation. We still live in the flat but father closed off the balcony. We barely talked father out of concreting the windows shut.
Books lay in disarray on the floor of the empty room. We were busy repainting the walls of our house. We were newcomers but knew nearly all the neighbors by face. To tell the truth, that was not too hard a thing to do. Our apartment was on the ground floor with an open balcony. Our curious neighbors took advantage of that fact and often peeped in to see what we were busy with.
“Have they added anything new today?” an old woman asked and took a seat near the others. They had even put a long bench under the balcony to be able to follow every step of ours and analyze whatever we did.
“Nothing new, I think,” answered another old lady, who was cleaning green beans and placing them in a pan full of water next to her knees. “They are just painting walls over there”. “Are they?” asked the newcomer.
I glanced around and caught some tension in the eyes of the workers. Judge for yourself, is it pleasant to work knowing that you are being watched, and having people discuss whatever you do? “I wonder why they paint the walls white,” mumbled an old woman sipping her coffee. “Green, dark red, but never white. White is not for walls.”
My father blushed in anger but didn't utter a word. He is a patient man.
“Renovations, renovations!!” exclaimed an old man coming out of our exit. “The renovation has started and I wasn't told, what a shame!”
In a minute he was gone but then was back again with some buddies of his. They hadn't forgotten to bring the backgammon, a couple of chairs and a table. “Hi, everybody,” cried one of the old men, waving at us. Old men are different; they don't just sit like the old ladies do. They take active participation in all the repairs -- sharing opinions, giving advice, talking directly to the workers, the main characters in the spectacle.
“So, you are painting the walls today? You'd better ask for advice, we may be of help,” said an old man shaking the backgammon dice in his fist.
“Oh, you are so kind,” mumbled one of the workers to himself but he only smiled to the old man in response.
“I don't think you hold the brush the right way,” cried one of the old men in a high tone.
“Thanks a lot, I think I do things the right way,” answered the house painter, smiling.
“The right way, hmm…,” smiled the adviser in a self-contained manner.
The advice sessions followed one another until the evening. The best thing about old people is the fact that they go to bed early. It is only after their departure that we could take a breath.
“I'll move from this flat as soon as an opportunity arises. These people think they have come to watch a performance which we are the main actors of”, father said.
“We are fish in an aquarium with fish for them would say,” mother added gloomily.
I was about to say that a zoo was the most suitable description for the situation, but the sudden sight of a stranger standing in the room scared me to death. He gazed at the walls with a master's calm look, and then added quietly but in an even tone, “So, you are renovating,” he said. No one answered. We were horrified. “Oh, please don't answer. I know everything. You look tired,” continued the newcomer and smiled. No response followed.
“I knew it, I knew it sirs. I have fish… just caught them. Do you want some? It's cheap, 100 drams each.” He showed us the product and continued talking “Quite the wrong idea about the oven. Instead of switching it on to cook this delicious fish, you are sitting on it.”
Our cries full of indignation stopped the man from talking more and he left the same way he had come, i.e. the balcony.
Similar stories accompanied our work throughout the renovation. We still live in the flat but father closed off the balcony. We barely talked father out of concreting the windows shut.
Gor Baghdasaryan
15 years old
Find Gor Baghdasaryan's stories (16)
^ top
|
“Don\'t Look Out of the Window”
“What's up there, out?”
“Do you want me to tell everything from the very beginning?”
“Tell.”
Sam looked at his brothers.
“Well talk then”, repeated Aram , taking his seat on the bed.
“I have an exam tomorrow.”
“Are you afraid?” asked Vahan swinging.
“No, I am not afraid.”
Aram looked down and started painting something on the blanket with his fingers trying to imitate the pattern. Vahan pulled his chair nearer to his brother's bed.
“What then?” he asked.
“Then, I think I will go for a walk with the others”, said Sam scratching his head.
“A walk with your friends?”
“Yeah, with my classmates.”
“Are they clever?” asked Aram, raising his head.
“Who? You mean my friends?”
“Yes, them.”
“Sure, all of them are clever.”
Aram smiled joyfully as if he'd heard something very important, then he pulled his toy cars nearer to him to play.
Vahan looked at him but said nothing. For a minute nobody said a word. Sam and Vahan looked at Aram driving his car over the blanket.
“You should invite them all to our place for us to get to know them too”, said Vahan by moving the wheelchair.
“I will.”
“When will you?”
“During the vacations.”
“So to say in a month?”
“Perhaps.”
“We'll be waiting.”
“Are you getting bored?”
“Yeah, it is good you go out with your friends. Who would be telling us all these interesting things otherwise?”
“When Aram recovers you will be able to go out too.”
Vahram was touched. He looked at his brother lying in the bed who seemed to have heard nothing.
“That's right we'll go out as soon as he is OK.”
“Then you will come to see all of my friends.”
“So we'll have friends”, said Aram in a high voice and he ceased playing with his toys.
“I know. Then we'll play with them. Everybody round here knows interesting games. They are good ones.”
“What kind of games?”
“I don't know but they are good ones. But they don't usually play these kind of games in our country.”
“Then we should try to recover soon, to see what games these are.”
“You just try to recover soon and everything will be OK.”
Aram looked at the opposite wall for a while, then smiled and said:
“Will we go to the seaside?”
“We will. Then we will see that the sea is beautiful.”
“We didn't have sea in our country.”
“Here there is sea and we will go to see it.”
“Can I see it from out the window?”
“No.”
“I am leaving”, Sam said in a hurry and went out.
“So, will we go out once?” asked Vahan in a low voice.
“By all means. We'll go out when Aram is OK”, whispered Sam not to wake the younger brother.
Vahan was swinging the wheelchair thoughtfully.
“How is he to recover? He has been in bed since our arrival.”
“He's ill.”
“I know, and that's the whole problem.”
“He will recover.”
Vahan didn't answer.
“Say something, will he recover?” Sam went on.
Vahan shook his shoulders.
“Just be patient, you will see things are good here. Everything is good. ” Sam talked again.
“You are happy, you have friends, you go to school, and you can go for a walk.”
“Be patient”, repeated Sam.
“I want to go out too; I want to see the sea.”
“You will see it.”
“I can't see it from out the window.”
“It's on the other side.”
Suddenly Vahan rolled the wheelchair towards Sam.
“What if you take me out for five minutes, just for me to see it? Only five minutes…”
Sam stood up.
“Not now.”
“When then?”
“Some day.”
“Go out, I don't want to see anybody,”
“We'll go out.”
“You are lying.”
“I am not.”
“Are you back already?” asked Aram sleepily.
“Yeah.”
“I was asleep.”
“I know. I was here.”
“Did you take the exam?”
“I did.”
“Did you pass it?
“Yeah.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went for a walk with my friends.”
“Are they from our neighborhood?”
“Yeah, they are all my friends in the neighborhood.”
“That's good.”
“Why is it good?”
“It's good when all are your friends, so you can introduce them to me when I go out.”
“I will.”
“Then we'll go out to the seaside.”
“I will teach you to make sand castles there.”
Aram was silent for a minute.
“I have never made castles in our country.”
“You will make them here.”
“I don't want to. If I have made none there, in my motherland, I will make none here either.”
“But that's interesting.”
“It is not. I know better.”
“Well, you sure know better.”
Aram gazed at the ceiling sadly.
"Then we'll go home.”
“Yeah, perhaps, we will.”
“Well, if you want we'll make a castle, but only one, just one.”
“OK.”
“Do you feel good?”
“About what?”
“You are happy, everything is OK for you?”
“Isn't everything good for you too?”
Aram turned to the wall and uttered nothing.
“Are you leaving?” asked Vahan.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to see your friends?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are they now?”
“They are in the yard.”
“Are they waiting for you?”
“I have told them to, so they are there waiting for me.”
“It's good you are happy, which means we are happy too.”
“How?”
“Look, if you are happy, we know everything is OK.”
“I promise to take you to the sea.”
“Go, they are waiting for you.”
“Vahan.”
“What?”
“Promise not to look out of the window till we go out. Never do it.”
“I promise.”
Sam was surprised Vahan had no objections. He turned to him quickly.
“I will be back soon.”
Sam went out. He was in the yard. There were children there. It was difficult to say what they were busy with. Everybody was gazing at him. Some stopped skipping.
“Look, he is back again.”
“He is a refugee.”
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Where are you going without your invalid brothers?”
“You keep them inside?”
“Move on, what has happened?”
“Go away, run!”
Sam went away in a hurry. He passed by the children in the yard. He was not going to the sea…there was none, there had never been any. Sam turned his head back suddenly. No one was looking out of the window. This was the most important thing. Let them not see their brother walking with his friends happily.
“What's up there, out?”
“Do you want me to tell everything from the very beginning?”
“Tell.”
Sam looked at his brothers.
“Well talk then”, repeated Aram , taking his seat on the bed.
“I have an exam tomorrow.”
“Are you afraid?” asked Vahan swinging.
“No, I am not afraid.”
Aram looked down and started painting something on the blanket with his fingers trying to imitate the pattern. Vahan pulled his chair nearer to his brother's bed.
“What then?” he asked.
“Then, I think I will go for a walk with the others”, said Sam scratching his head.
“A walk with your friends?”
“Yeah, with my classmates.”
“Are they clever?” asked Aram, raising his head.
“Who? You mean my friends?”
“Yes, them.”
“Sure, all of them are clever.”
Aram smiled joyfully as if he'd heard something very important, then he pulled his toy cars nearer to him to play.
Vahan looked at him but said nothing. For a minute nobody said a word. Sam and Vahan looked at Aram driving his car over the blanket.
“You should invite them all to our place for us to get to know them too”, said Vahan by moving the wheelchair.
“I will.”
“When will you?”
“During the vacations.”
“So to say in a month?”
“Perhaps.”
“We'll be waiting.”
“Are you getting bored?”
“Yeah, it is good you go out with your friends. Who would be telling us all these interesting things otherwise?”
“When Aram recovers you will be able to go out too.”
Vahram was touched. He looked at his brother lying in the bed who seemed to have heard nothing.
“That's right we'll go out as soon as he is OK.”
“Then you will come to see all of my friends.”
“So we'll have friends”, said Aram in a high voice and he ceased playing with his toys.
“I know. Then we'll play with them. Everybody round here knows interesting games. They are good ones.”
“What kind of games?”
“I don't know but they are good ones. But they don't usually play these kind of games in our country.”
“Then we should try to recover soon, to see what games these are.”
“You just try to recover soon and everything will be OK.”
Aram looked at the opposite wall for a while, then smiled and said:
“Will we go to the seaside?”
“We will. Then we will see that the sea is beautiful.”
“We didn't have sea in our country.”
“Here there is sea and we will go to see it.”
“Can I see it from out the window?”
“No.”
“I am leaving”, Sam said in a hurry and went out.
“So, will we go out once?” asked Vahan in a low voice.
“By all means. We'll go out when Aram is OK”, whispered Sam not to wake the younger brother.
Vahan was swinging the wheelchair thoughtfully.
“How is he to recover? He has been in bed since our arrival.”
“He's ill.”
“I know, and that's the whole problem.”
“He will recover.”
Vahan didn't answer.
“Say something, will he recover?” Sam went on.
Vahan shook his shoulders.
“Just be patient, you will see things are good here. Everything is good. ” Sam talked again.
“You are happy, you have friends, you go to school, and you can go for a walk.”
“Be patient”, repeated Sam.
“I want to go out too; I want to see the sea.”
“You will see it.”
“I can't see it from out the window.”
“It's on the other side.”
Suddenly Vahan rolled the wheelchair towards Sam.
“What if you take me out for five minutes, just for me to see it? Only five minutes…”
Sam stood up.
“Not now.”
“When then?”
“Some day.”
“Go out, I don't want to see anybody,”
“We'll go out.”
“You are lying.”
“I am not.”
“Are you back already?” asked Aram sleepily.
“Yeah.”
“I was asleep.”
“I know. I was here.”
“Did you take the exam?”
“I did.”
“Did you pass it?
“Yeah.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went for a walk with my friends.”
“Are they from our neighborhood?”
“Yeah, they are all my friends in the neighborhood.”
“That's good.”
“Why is it good?”
“It's good when all are your friends, so you can introduce them to me when I go out.”
“I will.”
“Then we'll go out to the seaside.”
“I will teach you to make sand castles there.”
Aram was silent for a minute.
“I have never made castles in our country.”
“You will make them here.”
“I don't want to. If I have made none there, in my motherland, I will make none here either.”
“But that's interesting.”
“It is not. I know better.”
“Well, you sure know better.”
Aram gazed at the ceiling sadly.
"Then we'll go home.”
“Yeah, perhaps, we will.”
“Well, if you want we'll make a castle, but only one, just one.”
“OK.”
“Do you feel good?”
“About what?”
“You are happy, everything is OK for you?”
“Isn't everything good for you too?”
Aram turned to the wall and uttered nothing.
“Are you leaving?” asked Vahan.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to see your friends?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are they now?”
“They are in the yard.”
“Are they waiting for you?”
“I have told them to, so they are there waiting for me.”
“It's good you are happy, which means we are happy too.”
“How?”
“Look, if you are happy, we know everything is OK.”
“I promise to take you to the sea.”
“Go, they are waiting for you.”
“Vahan.”
“What?”
“Promise not to look out of the window till we go out. Never do it.”
“I promise.”
Sam was surprised Vahan had no objections. He turned to him quickly.
“I will be back soon.”
Sam went out. He was in the yard. There were children there. It was difficult to say what they were busy with. Everybody was gazing at him. Some stopped skipping.
“Look, he is back again.”
“He is a refugee.”
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Where are you going without your invalid brothers?”
“You keep them inside?”
“Move on, what has happened?”
“Go away, run!”
Sam went away in a hurry. He passed by the children in the yard. He was not going to the sea…there was none, there had never been any. Sam turned his head back suddenly. No one was looking out of the window. This was the most important thing. Let them not see their brother walking with his friends happily.
Gor Baghdasaryan
15 years old
Find Gor Baghdasaryan's stories (16)
^ top
|
“About Myself”
I suppose I am a bad one as in this small town of ours I may be replaced by three other kids, but I believe I am not that bad. I am kind not to be too boasty. My family is not that of scientists and I suppose I don't have to fit into special intelligence standards. My brothers hold the contrary view. They believe I spoil the brainpower of our family.
My story is very short; I am writing it very fast. My having a dog depends fully on this.
I suppose I am a bad one as in this small town of ours I may be replaced by three other kids, but I believe I am not that bad. I am kind not to be too boasty. My family is not that of scientists and I suppose I don't have to fit into special intelligence standards. My brothers hold the contrary view. They believe I spoil the brainpower of our family.
My story is very short; I am writing it very fast. My having a dog depends fully on this.
Hovnan Baghdasaryan
8 years old
Find Hovnan Baghdasaryan's stories (11)
^ top
|
“Will you hold me, dad?”
“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?”
“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?”
Zarouhie Ghukasyan
13 years old
Find Zarouhie Ghukasyan's stories (7)
^ top
|
“What a crazy month”
It was March and we were thinking about how to get out of class. It was a very bright day, the air was fresh and it wasn’t even raining. When we were out the gates, the sky turned gray. We thought it wouldn’t rain and decided to walk. Suddenly it started to rain and we got wet. Fortunately, some of us were going to Nork and were near the bus station. It was very hard to get home with the heavy bags. When I got home my mother was surprised to see me wet. She asked me about it and I told her that it was raining outside. But soon she understood that I was lying. Then I told her the truth. She said that only if I'd skipped class she would be angry with me, but if I was with my classmates then she wouldn’t be angry.
I’m finishing my story, but I will never forget that spring day because I caught a cold and was ill for a month.
It was March and we were thinking about how to get out of class. It was a very bright day, the air was fresh and it wasn’t even raining. When we were out the gates, the sky turned gray. We thought it wouldn’t rain and decided to walk. Suddenly it started to rain and we got wet. Fortunately, some of us were going to Nork and were near the bus station. It was very hard to get home with the heavy bags. When I got home my mother was surprised to see me wet. She asked me about it and I told her that it was raining outside. But soon she understood that I was lying. Then I told her the truth. She said that only if I'd skipped class she would be angry with me, but if I was with my classmates then she wouldn’t be angry.
I’m finishing my story, but I will never forget that spring day because I caught a cold and was ill for a month.
Ashot Ghoukasyan
13 years old
Find Ashot Ghoukasyan's stories (5)
^ top
|
“Jenny”
The winter wouldn't end, it seemed, although it was spring outside. Some dogs were running in the yard. I went out and said, “Look at what I brought for you, Jenny.” One of the dogs ran up to me and I repeated what I said to her again, "Look at what I brought for you, Jenny." Then I gave Jenny a piece of bread. Jenny was so thirsty that she didn’t eat the bread. She made me understand that she wanted water by going over to her empty water bowl. I gave Jenny water. When she drank the water she ate the bread too. I brought a blanket for Jenny and placed it on the ground. She made herself comfortable on it and then fell asleep at once. I went home and fell asleep too. In my dream I saw that Jenny was living in my house and was playing with me.
When I went to school in the morning Jenny was still sleeping on my blanket. All day at school I was thinking about Jenny. I was impatiently waiting to play with Jenny.
It was a warm weather outside so I thought that Jenny would not be cold any more.
The winter wouldn't end, it seemed, although it was spring outside. Some dogs were running in the yard. I went out and said, “Look at what I brought for you, Jenny.” One of the dogs ran up to me and I repeated what I said to her again, "Look at what I brought for you, Jenny." Then I gave Jenny a piece of bread. Jenny was so thirsty that she didn’t eat the bread. She made me understand that she wanted water by going over to her empty water bowl. I gave Jenny water. When she drank the water she ate the bread too. I brought a blanket for Jenny and placed it on the ground. She made herself comfortable on it and then fell asleep at once. I went home and fell asleep too. In my dream I saw that Jenny was living in my house and was playing with me.
When I went to school in the morning Jenny was still sleeping on my blanket. All day at school I was thinking about Jenny. I was impatiently waiting to play with Jenny.
It was a warm weather outside so I thought that Jenny would not be cold any more.
Rima Tofanyan
12 years old
Find Rima Tofanyan's stories (8)
^ top
|
“Neighborhood of my dreams”
Our street is very noisy; it's full of all kinds of people who come here to eat barbecue. There are many restaurants on our street and it's normal to hear the drunks fight at night. There are often cases when the police arrive and take a guilty person to the police station.
The yard is on the other side of the street but I've only been there once. There are so many cars there that it is impossible to play.
Here there are neither old men playing backgammon, nor old women serving coffee to one another. I do not like my neighborhood, I feel like a stranger there.
In the neighborhood of my dreams, children will be busy with their games, and the old men playing backgammon. I wish there were many trees and flowers in our neighborhood. I wish the rustling of leaves were the only noises troubling people at night.
Our street is very noisy; it's full of all kinds of people who come here to eat barbecue. There are many restaurants on our street and it's normal to hear the drunks fight at night. There are often cases when the police arrive and take a guilty person to the police station.
The yard is on the other side of the street but I've only been there once. There are so many cars there that it is impossible to play.
Here there are neither old men playing backgammon, nor old women serving coffee to one another. I do not like my neighborhood, I feel like a stranger there.
In the neighborhood of my dreams, children will be busy with their games, and the old men playing backgammon. I wish there were many trees and flowers in our neighborhood. I wish the rustling of leaves were the only noises troubling people at night.
Narineh Daneghyan
12 years old
Find Narineh Daneghyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“Father\'s Work - Being Refugee”
I was waiting for my friends outside. They were late again. I decided to have a seat after a ten-minute walk up and down. A boy stood near me licking an ice cream cone. He threw a look at his ice cream every time he licked it as if this would make it stop melting.
Now, I couldn't stand silent, after all; I decided to talk to him.
“Hello.”
For a while the boy stood still; he stopped eating the ice cream as if trying to confirm to himself that I had greeted him.
“Hello”, I said again.
“Hello,” he said after giving my hello due thought.
“What's your name?”
“Taron.”
“How old are you, Taron?”
“…eight.”
“Do you study at our school?”
“I don't go to school.”
“Perhaps you will start your studies next year?”
“Mm...I don't know. One day I will surely attend school.”
“Why don't you go to school now? Do you have a mother or father...?” I asked him full of curiosity paying no attention to his feelings.
“I do.”
“Do they work?”
“Yeah…their work is being refugees. My father has been a refugee for a long time already; he cannot find a job.”
“What do you mean by saying being a refugee is work?”
“It means to live in displacement, in a ruined building, to wear dirty clothes. It means to bear all these things and not get money for it. That‘s the reason I don't go to school. I believe I can attend classes when father finds a job.”
He gazed at the ice cream for a while, took it to his mouth to lick but then stopped. He started crying, the tears fell on the ice cream he had just been eating.
“Look, you made him sad,” I thought to myself, “now think of something joyful to change the situation.”
I was about to talk about Winnie the Pooh with Taron when my friends arrived to take me to a cafe and I had to leave. I was going to enjoy my time, while Taron… what will become of him? Will he go to school? I know one thing for sure, he will go on eating his ice cream but in a much sadder mood thanks to me.
I was waiting for my friends outside. They were late again. I decided to have a seat after a ten-minute walk up and down. A boy stood near me licking an ice cream cone. He threw a look at his ice cream every time he licked it as if this would make it stop melting.
Now, I couldn't stand silent, after all; I decided to talk to him.
“Hello.”
For a while the boy stood still; he stopped eating the ice cream as if trying to confirm to himself that I had greeted him.
“Hello”, I said again.
“Hello,” he said after giving my hello due thought.
“What's your name?”
“Taron.”
“How old are you, Taron?”
“…eight.”
“Do you study at our school?”
“I don't go to school.”
“Perhaps you will start your studies next year?”
“Mm...I don't know. One day I will surely attend school.”
“Why don't you go to school now? Do you have a mother or father...?” I asked him full of curiosity paying no attention to his feelings.
“I do.”
“Do they work?”
“Yeah…their work is being refugees. My father has been a refugee for a long time already; he cannot find a job.”
“What do you mean by saying being a refugee is work?”
“It means to live in displacement, in a ruined building, to wear dirty clothes. It means to bear all these things and not get money for it. That‘s the reason I don't go to school. I believe I can attend classes when father finds a job.”
He gazed at the ice cream for a while, took it to his mouth to lick but then stopped. He started crying, the tears fell on the ice cream he had just been eating.
“Look, you made him sad,” I thought to myself, “now think of something joyful to change the situation.”
I was about to talk about Winnie the Pooh with Taron when my friends arrived to take me to a cafe and I had to leave. I was going to enjoy my time, while Taron… what will become of him? Will he go to school? I know one thing for sure, he will go on eating his ice cream but in a much sadder mood thanks to me.
Eleonora Harutyunyan
14 years old
Find Eleonora Harutyunyan's stories (13)
^ top
|
“This Tiny Corner of the Huge World”
“Ellen can you come to my place tomorrow to see how nice my room looks after the repairs?” my friend asked me at school.
“Surely. I just need to tell mother about it.”
“We can go to the hostel and use their phone to call her.”
“Okay,” I said.
Once the building was a hostel for students, now refugees live there. It was dark there. It looked as if the corridor was once separated into two parts by a rod. Now only part of it was left and the corridor looked like a prison. We went up to the first floor using the half-ruined staircase. It was even darker there. There was laundry hung in the corridor.
The water dripped down onto the floor. Near the laundry, against the walls cracked by moisture there stood a cradle with a crying child in it. A squeak in the quiet and dark hostel… We heard the half-broken door at the end of the corridor open. A gray-haired old man with a torn photo in his hands appeared. He also had some stones in his hardened palm which he played with while talking to himself.
“Grandson, have you seen my tzbeh?”
Two men came out and started making a fire. The corridor lit up. The empty hostel filled with the squeaking of doors opening. In a minute the cold place was full of people. Men talked of the world and of all the injustice in it. The thin women only shook their heads to agree with what their husbands said.
As for the phone, there wasn't one in the hostel, and to tell the truth my desire to see my friend's newly repaired flat was gone.
“Ellen can you come to my place tomorrow to see how nice my room looks after the repairs?” my friend asked me at school.
“Surely. I just need to tell mother about it.”
“We can go to the hostel and use their phone to call her.”
“Okay,” I said.
Once the building was a hostel for students, now refugees live there. It was dark there. It looked as if the corridor was once separated into two parts by a rod. Now only part of it was left and the corridor looked like a prison. We went up to the first floor using the half-ruined staircase. It was even darker there. There was laundry hung in the corridor.
The water dripped down onto the floor. Near the laundry, against the walls cracked by moisture there stood a cradle with a crying child in it. A squeak in the quiet and dark hostel… We heard the half-broken door at the end of the corridor open. A gray-haired old man with a torn photo in his hands appeared. He also had some stones in his hardened palm which he played with while talking to himself.
“Grandson, have you seen my tzbeh?”
Two men came out and started making a fire. The corridor lit up. The empty hostel filled with the squeaking of doors opening. In a minute the cold place was full of people. Men talked of the world and of all the injustice in it. The thin women only shook their heads to agree with what their husbands said.
As for the phone, there wasn't one in the hostel, and to tell the truth my desire to see my friend's newly repaired flat was gone.
Elen Gyoulnazaryan
13 years old
Find Elen Gyoulnazaryan's stories (4)
^ top
|
“The Mulberry Tree”
There are mulberry trees in front of all the houses except the one in that street. The tree stands inside, in the garden, it is very small. Mrs. Varsik, our neighbor, planted it recently. A mulberry tree is very strong; it can grow even in dust, unlike the slim and capricious apricot and peach trees which hardly survive in the fertile soil of the garden despite all kinds of care. They even manage to complain. Mrs. Varsik felled all the peach trees in the garden and planted a small mulberry tree there. No one argues against mulberry trees being for children. Judge for yourself. Who except children will take the trouble of climbing the high branches of the tree and picking the small mulberry seeds? We shake the tree and eat our harvest right there beneath its shadowy branches. The old women have their share in the harvest too. After all, they planted the trees, didn't they?
It was the end of June. The awful wind was shuddering the windows in my room. The whistle coming from outside through the open window woke me up at midnight.
“Never heard of such wind in summertime”, I mumbled half asleep, half awake, and went up to the window to close it. Suddenly something moved in Mrs. Varsik's garden.
It was Mrs. Varsik. She was trying to roll a heavy stump towards her gates. I decided to call on her the next morning. I saw the cut-off trunk at the gates. Then I entered the living room. There in the center was Mrs. Varsik's refugee son's photo. Her son had left the country because he was unable to make his living here. He had gotten married and had children somewhere far away from his mother. Mrs. Varsik had never seen her grandchildren.
The photo in the center of the room was sent from afar.
“Good morning Grandma Varsik, my granny asks you over for a cup of tea”, I said.
“I am writing a letter to my son, we can go together if you wait a bit for me to finish it. Who knows, maybe he will receive it”.
I remembered her writing thousands of letters like this before. She managed to send them somehow but none got to their destination.
“Oh goody, you go out to the garden and pick some cherries; my backache is awful and I can't do it myself”, she told me.
“Why does your back ache”, I asked, meanwhile picking some cherries.
“The wind had opened the gates at night. I went up to close it and found out the lock was gone, so I had to roll the stump to close the door. ”
“Grandma Varsik, you should have left it open. No one would enter your place.”
“I didn't think of someone entering my house, deary, what can they steal from me? I was just afraid the strong wind may root out the mulberry tree I planted for my grandchildren. When I heard the wind whirling I ran out automatically to do something .”
Mrs. Varsik's mind was only occupied with her son and grandchildren. This was the reason she had planted the tree inside, in the garden, for the mulberries not to be dusty, for her grandchildren to come and eat them clean. The mulberry tree will surely grow; its trunk will spread all over the garden, but will Mrs. Varsik's grandchildren be able to come back some day? Will they be able to try their granny's tasty mulberries?
There are mulberry trees in front of all the houses except the one in that street. The tree stands inside, in the garden, it is very small. Mrs. Varsik, our neighbor, planted it recently. A mulberry tree is very strong; it can grow even in dust, unlike the slim and capricious apricot and peach trees which hardly survive in the fertile soil of the garden despite all kinds of care. They even manage to complain. Mrs. Varsik felled all the peach trees in the garden and planted a small mulberry tree there. No one argues against mulberry trees being for children. Judge for yourself. Who except children will take the trouble of climbing the high branches of the tree and picking the small mulberry seeds? We shake the tree and eat our harvest right there beneath its shadowy branches. The old women have their share in the harvest too. After all, they planted the trees, didn't they?
It was the end of June. The awful wind was shuddering the windows in my room. The whistle coming from outside through the open window woke me up at midnight.
“Never heard of such wind in summertime”, I mumbled half asleep, half awake, and went up to the window to close it. Suddenly something moved in Mrs. Varsik's garden.
It was Mrs. Varsik. She was trying to roll a heavy stump towards her gates. I decided to call on her the next morning. I saw the cut-off trunk at the gates. Then I entered the living room. There in the center was Mrs. Varsik's refugee son's photo. Her son had left the country because he was unable to make his living here. He had gotten married and had children somewhere far away from his mother. Mrs. Varsik had never seen her grandchildren.
The photo in the center of the room was sent from afar.
“Good morning Grandma Varsik, my granny asks you over for a cup of tea”, I said.
“I am writing a letter to my son, we can go together if you wait a bit for me to finish it. Who knows, maybe he will receive it”.
I remembered her writing thousands of letters like this before. She managed to send them somehow but none got to their destination.
“Oh goody, you go out to the garden and pick some cherries; my backache is awful and I can't do it myself”, she told me.
“Why does your back ache”, I asked, meanwhile picking some cherries.
“The wind had opened the gates at night. I went up to close it and found out the lock was gone, so I had to roll the stump to close the door. ”
“Grandma Varsik, you should have left it open. No one would enter your place.”
“I didn't think of someone entering my house, deary, what can they steal from me? I was just afraid the strong wind may root out the mulberry tree I planted for my grandchildren. When I heard the wind whirling I ran out automatically to do something .”
Mrs. Varsik's mind was only occupied with her son and grandchildren. This was the reason she had planted the tree inside, in the garden, for the mulberries not to be dusty, for her grandchildren to come and eat them clean. The mulberry tree will surely grow; its trunk will spread all over the garden, but will Mrs. Varsik's grandchildren be able to come back some day? Will they be able to try their granny's tasty mulberries?
Naneh Sahakyan
14 years old
Find Naneh Sahakyan's stories (7)
^ top
|
“The Prayer of a Lonely One”
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.
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.
Zarouhie Ghukasyan
13 years old
Find Zarouhie Ghukasyan's stories (7)
^ top
|
“Does It Happen Again?”
I remember Grandpa telling me about a displaced family who had found refuge in their village years ago. The family was facing many difficulties. They had no house but did everything to make a living. The village children used to cry:
“Refugees! Refugees!!”
They didn't realize they were adding oil to the fire.
“We are not refugees, we have blankets and mattresses”, answered the youngest and ran at them with his fists tightly curled.
I remember Grandpa telling me about a displaced family who had found refuge in their village years ago. The family was facing many difficulties. They had no house but did everything to make a living. The village children used to cry:
“Refugees! Refugees!!”
They didn't realize they were adding oil to the fire.
“We are not refugees, we have blankets and mattresses”, answered the youngest and ran at them with his fists tightly curled.
Narineh Daneghyan
12 years old
Find Narineh Daneghyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“Only In Fifteen Minutes”
“What should I do now”, I was talking to myself. “Who told you to go out for a walk all alone? Didn't you know you would get lost? I think I will knock at this door and ask about a possible way out”.
I pulled the rusty gate, which squeaked and let me in. There, inside, under an apricot tree two 5 to 6 year old children were playing. The girl who stood at the doorway went in and returned with a woman. I told her I was lost and asked whether I could use their phone.
“Come in; wait for a while and I will go to call from our neighbor's. We don't have a phone. ”
I entered the house, which, to tell the truth, was far from being one. It was dark inside. The light came in from a tiny window. There was something like a bookcase and a bed beside the table and some chairs in the room. A man was lying in the bed. The atmosphere in the room made me feel depressed and I hurried to leave it.
“Let's go see our garden”, said the girl standing outside the house.
What they called a garden was made up of some trees and beds on which many different things grew.
“I have planted a flower here, but don't tell mother about it. She'll get angry. She tells me not to occupy myself with senseless things--but the flowers are beautiful, they are not senseless”, said my escortesse.
“What's your name”, I asked.
“Ani.”
“How old are you?”
“I am ten, but I don't go to school”, she added quickly as if guessing my question to follow.
“Why?”
“I am helping mother. She collects money in the streets. I look after Suren and Armen meanwhile, or help her about the house. Besides, one needs money to go to school.”
“And where is your father?”
“In the house. Don't you remember the man lying in the bed? He has been having a footache, he can't walk”, answered Ani in a calm voice.
“Where do you come from?”
“We are refugees. Mother tells us it was good in our motherland, but I don't remember as I was born here. I will leave for America when I grow up. It is not good here. Mother says no one loved us when we first came here. They are greedy here; they give nothing to others. In the yard children mock me; they say refugees have come to destroy their life. Let these flowers grow. Then everybody will be jealous of me. I will have beautiful flowers which I will give to no one, even for money. This is not an ordinary flower; it is my friend. I will never sell it.
I don't know whether her flower grew or not but I know one thing for sure, which is that ten year old little girl taught me more important things than all of my teachers did during the eight years of my school attendance.
“What should I do now”, I was talking to myself. “Who told you to go out for a walk all alone? Didn't you know you would get lost? I think I will knock at this door and ask about a possible way out”.
I pulled the rusty gate, which squeaked and let me in. There, inside, under an apricot tree two 5 to 6 year old children were playing. The girl who stood at the doorway went in and returned with a woman. I told her I was lost and asked whether I could use their phone.
“Come in; wait for a while and I will go to call from our neighbor's. We don't have a phone. ”
I entered the house, which, to tell the truth, was far from being one. It was dark inside. The light came in from a tiny window. There was something like a bookcase and a bed beside the table and some chairs in the room. A man was lying in the bed. The atmosphere in the room made me feel depressed and I hurried to leave it.
“Let's go see our garden”, said the girl standing outside the house.
What they called a garden was made up of some trees and beds on which many different things grew.
“I have planted a flower here, but don't tell mother about it. She'll get angry. She tells me not to occupy myself with senseless things--but the flowers are beautiful, they are not senseless”, said my escortesse.
“What's your name”, I asked.
“Ani.”
“How old are you?”
“I am ten, but I don't go to school”, she added quickly as if guessing my question to follow.
“Why?”
“I am helping mother. She collects money in the streets. I look after Suren and Armen meanwhile, or help her about the house. Besides, one needs money to go to school.”
“And where is your father?”
“In the house. Don't you remember the man lying in the bed? He has been having a footache, he can't walk”, answered Ani in a calm voice.
“Where do you come from?”
“We are refugees. Mother tells us it was good in our motherland, but I don't remember as I was born here. I will leave for America when I grow up. It is not good here. Mother says no one loved us when we first came here. They are greedy here; they give nothing to others. In the yard children mock me; they say refugees have come to destroy their life. Let these flowers grow. Then everybody will be jealous of me. I will have beautiful flowers which I will give to no one, even for money. This is not an ordinary flower; it is my friend. I will never sell it.
I don't know whether her flower grew or not but I know one thing for sure, which is that ten year old little girl taught me more important things than all of my teachers did during the eight years of my school attendance.
Lusine Hakobyan
13 years old
Find Lusine Hakobyan's stories (14)
^ top
|
“The Tailless Rex”
I've got a toy dog named little Rex. My mother says little Rex looks like a white dog that just came out of a sooty pipe. I used to put little Rex under my pillow before I went to bed. One day when I woke up I felt hair in my mouth. I also noticed there were fewer hairs on little Rex. Later I remembered me gnawing on something white while I was sleeping. I guess that something was my dog’s tail.
I've got a toy dog named little Rex. My mother says little Rex looks like a white dog that just came out of a sooty pipe. I used to put little Rex under my pillow before I went to bed. One day when I woke up I felt hair in my mouth. I also noticed there were fewer hairs on little Rex. Later I remembered me gnawing on something white while I was sleeping. I guess that something was my dog’s tail.
Mariam Manoukyan
9 years old
Find Mariam Manoukyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“Chapie”
My aunt has a puppy. His name is Chapie.
I’m afraid of the puppy. They tie up Chapie every time I visit them. He starts whining and tries to free himself from the chain. I pity him very much but can’t make myself go up to him; I just throw him a piece of sausage and run away.
My aunt has a puppy. His name is Chapie.
I’m afraid of the puppy. They tie up Chapie every time I visit them. He starts whining and tries to free himself from the chain. I pity him very much but can’t make myself go up to him; I just throw him a piece of sausage and run away.
Narineh Daneghyan
9 years old
Find Narineh Daneghyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist, the 'Khabarbzik' articles, but not all, just half, wouldn't have been written. And finally, if I didn't exist, my brother would have stayed unmannered. At one time, I had taught him so many bad words for him to go and say to my sister and be spanked for it. But I regret that very much, since now he says all those words to me. Oh, my poor brother! Now, all day, as soon as he pronounces one of the bad words I taught him,
straight away he gets a spanking from me.
If I didn't exist, the 'Khabarbzik' articles, but not all, just half, wouldn't have been written. And finally, if I didn't exist, my brother would have stayed unmannered. At one time, I had taught him so many bad words for him to go and say to my sister and be spanked for it. But I regret that very much, since now he says all those words to me. Oh, my poor brother! Now, all day, as soon as he pronounces one of the bad words I taught him,
straight away he gets a spanking from me.
David Martirosyan
9 years old
Find David Martirosyan's stories (8)
^ top
|
“A Funny Story”
Gohar is a student. One day little Daniel said to my sister Gohar:
“Gohar, lend me your waistcoat to wear.”
“It’s too loose for you, you’ll sink in it,” answered Gohar.
Daniel asked in surprise:
“Oho, is there any water in it?”
Gohar is a student. One day little Daniel said to my sister Gohar:
“Gohar, lend me your waistcoat to wear.”
“It’s too loose for you, you’ll sink in it,” answered Gohar.
Daniel asked in surprise:
“Oho, is there any water in it?”
Mariam Manoukyan
9 years old
Find Mariam Manoukyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“You, Aragats... a Diamond Shield...”
“Aragats, come to the blackboard.”
There is no sound.
“I repeat. Aragats, come to the blackboard.”
Again there is no answer.
“Why do you look at me with your eyes wide open, Aragats? Come to the blackboard!’’
“Is it me whom you are addressing?’’ my brother asked.
“Certainly.”
“But... my name is Gor.’’
“That doesn’t matter. Come to the blackboard.”
My brother‘s biology teacher, who is also my teacher, came to our classroom the same day and asked:
“Who is Aragats’ brother here?”
“Me, I am Aragats’ brother, but his name is Gor.”
“Aragats, come to the blackboard.”
There is no sound.
“I repeat. Aragats, come to the blackboard.”
Again there is no answer.
“Why do you look at me with your eyes wide open, Aragats? Come to the blackboard!’’
“Is it me whom you are addressing?’’ my brother asked.
“Certainly.”
“But... my name is Gor.’’
“That doesn’t matter. Come to the blackboard.”
My brother‘s biology teacher, who is also my teacher, came to our classroom the same day and asked:
“Who is Aragats’ brother here?”
“Me, I am Aragats’ brother, but his name is Gor.”
Moushegh Baghdasaryan
10 years old
Find Moushegh Baghdasaryan's stories (12)
^ top
|
“Maneh, Moush and I”
When I was a child my parents, relatives and everybody else loved me. This is not to say they do not love me now. However, now we have another baby at home, my brother Moush, and people don't want to show they love me. Once my dad used to come home from work, hug me, put me on the sofa and help me do physical exercises: he made me laugh, tickled me and things like this. Maneh, my elder sister, felt jealous about this. Maneh had approached me, raised her eyebrows, looked at me and said, “Get her!”
Now I am older and understand Maneh's feelings. When Moush was born, Maneh couldn't find her place as she was jumping from the sofa onto the chair and from the chair onto the sofa. I was an agile child, even too agile. Maneh didn't need me, I was nothing to her.
When my parents brought Moush home from the hospital I understood that Maneh needed a brother, for him to protect her.
When I was a child my parents, relatives and everybody else loved me. This is not to say they do not love me now. However, now we have another baby at home, my brother Moush, and people don't want to show they love me. Once my dad used to come home from work, hug me, put me on the sofa and help me do physical exercises: he made me laugh, tickled me and things like this. Maneh, my elder sister, felt jealous about this. Maneh had approached me, raised her eyebrows, looked at me and said, “Get her!”
Now I am older and understand Maneh's feelings. When Moush was born, Maneh couldn't find her place as she was jumping from the sofa onto the chair and from the chair onto the sofa. I was an agile child, even too agile. Maneh didn't need me, I was nothing to her.
When my parents brought Moush home from the hospital I understood that Maneh needed a brother, for him to protect her.
Sona Tonoyan
12 years old
Find Sona Tonoyan's stories (1)
^ top
|
“Lizok”
I live in a 12-story building and my only friend in this huge building is Liza, an eleven-year-old girl who lives next to us. What would the kids of our neighborhood do without Liza, or Lizok, as they warmly call her?
It was a pleasant summer day. We were out pouring water on each other. Lizok wasn't there. She was ill, lying in her bed. It was sad without her.
Suddenly we saw Lizok coming. Though she was ill, she agreed to join us. I think she shouldn't have. A high temperature and long hours in bed followed these few minutes of fun. All of us visited her in groups until she recovered.
I live in a 12-story building and my only friend in this huge building is Liza, an eleven-year-old girl who lives next to us. What would the kids of our neighborhood do without Liza, or Lizok, as they warmly call her?
It was a pleasant summer day. We were out pouring water on each other. Lizok wasn't there. She was ill, lying in her bed. It was sad without her.
Suddenly we saw Lizok coming. Though she was ill, she agreed to join us. I think she shouldn't have. A high temperature and long hours in bed followed these few minutes of fun. All of us visited her in groups until she recovered.
Maneh Tsatouryan
11 years old
Find Maneh Tsatouryan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“Gluttons”
Our yard is so big that my sister's classmates are afraid to stay there alone. Lots of kids want to go there. They usually follow us and then hide somewhere. These kids know where everything is in our yard and often come in to steal our apples and eat them.
Our yard is so big that my sister's classmates are afraid to stay there alone. Lots of kids want to go there. They usually follow us and then hide somewhere. These kids know where everything is in our yard and often come in to steal our apples and eat them.
Arpine Aghayan
10 years old
Find Arpine Aghayan's stories (2)
^ top
|
“Close Your Eyes”
Close your eyes for a minute and imagine yourself at your place, having supper with your family, talking about nice things--then turn the page and picture yourself devoid of all this, left homeless, without friends and relatives, without anything. Escaping is the only thing left to do, if you don't want to sacrifice yourself and die a hero's death. The wind blows you to some unknown place, to some strange town. You have nothing but your clothes and shoes; no one loves or respects you. They give you a place, sometimes under open sky and say, “This is it, go and live.” Sometimes being unable to speak the new country's language you face many difficulties and it is just impossible to pretend to be a native. No one wants to talk to you. If you want to find a job suiting your profession you better forget both about the desire to do so and the profession you have.
Now try to open your eyes. You see people who have to live in severe and unjust conditions, people who have to bear all this because of wars and disasters. These people need your help.
Close your eyes for a minute and imagine yourself at your place, having supper with your family, talking about nice things--then turn the page and picture yourself devoid of all this, left homeless, without friends and relatives, without anything. Escaping is the only thing left to do, if you don't want to sacrifice yourself and die a hero's death. The wind blows you to some unknown place, to some strange town. You have nothing but your clothes and shoes; no one loves or respects you. They give you a place, sometimes under open sky and say, “This is it, go and live.” Sometimes being unable to speak the new country's language you face many difficulties and it is just impossible to pretend to be a native. No one wants to talk to you. If you want to find a job suiting your profession you better forget both about the desire to do so and the profession you have.
Now try to open your eyes. You see people who have to live in severe and unjust conditions, people who have to bear all this because of wars and disasters. These people need your help.
David Martirosyan
12 years old
Find David Martirosyan's stories (8)
^ top
|
“What Do I Need?”
It was Sunday. We were going to Vanadzor as a family. I was talking in the car:
“Father we need to repair my room, the door, the windows…”
Father gazed into my eyes for a while and said:
“Look around and you'll understand everything.”
I looked. There was a small house. It wasn't even a house; the paint had already gone from the metallic walls and there was paper instead of glass on the windows. But there was one thing which made the half ruined building look quite another way. Some refugee children played in front of the house which was large and beautiful for them. When I saw all these things; I thought my room needed no repairs.
It was Sunday. We were going to Vanadzor as a family. I was talking in the car:
“Father we need to repair my room, the door, the windows…”
Father gazed into my eyes for a while and said:
“Look around and you'll understand everything.”
I looked. There was a small house. It wasn't even a house; the paint had already gone from the metallic walls and there was paper instead of glass on the windows. But there was one thing which made the half ruined building look quite another way. Some refugee children played in front of the house which was large and beautiful for them. When I saw all these things; I thought my room needed no repairs.
Garoun Partakchyan
13 years old
Find Garoun Partakchyan's stories (2)
^ top
|
“My first salary”
My fingers were so frozen that they were stuck on the keyboard. I could see two letters instead of one. My ears were red because of the cold, but I was continuing to work. I was creating a web sight for the organization where my father is working. It was my first serious work. When I'd finished my work it was like I aged 50 years. My father presented me a watch for my job. When I came close to the window I saw that it was already spring. And I wasn’t cold any more.
My fingers were so frozen that they were stuck on the keyboard. I could see two letters instead of one. My ears were red because of the cold, but I was continuing to work. I was creating a web sight for the organization where my father is working. It was my first serious work. When I'd finished my work it was like I aged 50 years. My father presented me a watch for my job. When I came close to the window I saw that it was already spring. And I wasn’t cold any more.
Sargis Yeghiazaryan
13 years old
Find Sargis Yeghiazaryan's stories (4)
^ top
|
“The bad mark”
It was an ordinary morning.
“Get up Juliana, you will be late for school”, said mom, as usual.
“I know I'm late and that's the reason I don't want to get up; besides, I do not want to go to school today”.
“Not ready for the lesson?” asked my sister.
“Don't get involved. This is my business…and mom’s too.”
“Hurry up. The breakfast is on the table.”
“Mom, I am not… going”, I said, and was about to make myself cozy under the blanket when…
“Don’t make me angry. Why don’t you want to go?”
“We're going to take a chemistry test and I'm not ready.”
“Not ready? Strange, it is very strange to hear you aren’t ready for the lesson.”
“Mom, but…”
“You should go to school. You must go.”
“You never understand me, mom.”
I went to school. It was physics but my mind was full of thoughts about the chemistry test. My bad mark was spinning in my mind.
The chemistry lesson came.
“Start Juliana, start writing the test”, I was saying to myself.
One of the students passed me a note. “Hmm… the right answers”, I thought happily.
I unfolded the note and read: “Julie, help me solve the problem with octane and hexane. Vahe.”
“I'm not up with mine, Vahe”, I wrote back.
“I know you are up, pass me the right answers”.
“I have nothing to pass.”
The lesson was coming to end but I had written nothing. The lesson finished.
I could hardly make myself stay till the end of the school day. When I got home, I started crying.
“What is the matter”, asked mom.
“Nothing, mom. Just got an “excellent” mark from chemistry. I am crying with happy excitement”, I said sarcastically and went to my room.
Some three hours passed. The phone rang.
“Hello”.
“Hello”, answered mom.
“It's Mashinyan.”
“Yes, Mr. Mashinyan. How are you? Is everything OK?”
“Juliana has a bad mark for her chemistry test.”
“How?”
“I think she is in love. Talk to her, please.”
“I will”, agreed mom in surprise. Then she came to my room.
“Talk to me.”
“About what, mom?”
“What is his name? Tell me, I will understand you.”
“Who’s name? I thought that it’d be better to be absent for the lesson than get a bad mark.”
Mom had not understood me. I put on my clothes and went out, hoping to find someone who would understand me.
It was an ordinary morning.
“Get up Juliana, you will be late for school”, said mom, as usual.
“I know I'm late and that's the reason I don't want to get up; besides, I do not want to go to school today”.
“Not ready for the lesson?” asked my sister.
“Don't get involved. This is my business…and mom’s too.”
“Hurry up. The breakfast is on the table.”
“Mom, I am not… going”, I said, and was about to make myself cozy under the blanket when…
“Don’t make me angry. Why don’t you want to go?”
“We're going to take a chemistry test and I'm not ready.”
“Not ready? Strange, it is very strange to hear you aren’t ready for the lesson.”
“Mom, but…”
“You should go to school. You must go.”
“You never understand me, mom.”
I went to school. It was physics but my mind was full of thoughts about the chemistry test. My bad mark was spinning in my mind.
The chemistry lesson came.
“Start Juliana, start writing the test”, I was saying to myself.
One of the students passed me a note. “Hmm… the right answers”, I thought happily.
I unfolded the note and read: “Julie, help me solve the problem with octane and hexane. Vahe.”
“I'm not up with mine, Vahe”, I wrote back.
“I know you are up, pass me the right answers”.
“I have nothing to pass.”
The lesson was coming to end but I had written nothing. The lesson finished.
I could hardly make myself stay till the end of the school day. When I got home, I started crying.
“What is the matter”, asked mom.
“Nothing, mom. Just got an “excellent” mark from chemistry. I am crying with happy excitement”, I said sarcastically and went to my room.
Some three hours passed. The phone rang.
“Hello”.
“Hello”, answered mom.
“It's Mashinyan.”
“Yes, Mr. Mashinyan. How are you? Is everything OK?”
“Juliana has a bad mark for her chemistry test.”
“How?”
“I think she is in love. Talk to her, please.”
“I will”, agreed mom in surprise. Then she came to my room.
“Talk to me.”
“About what, mom?”
“What is his name? Tell me, I will understand you.”
“Who’s name? I thought that it’d be better to be absent for the lesson than get a bad mark.”
Mom had not understood me. I put on my clothes and went out, hoping to find someone who would understand me.
Juliana Arakelyan
15 years old
Find Juliana Arakelyan's stories (4)
^ top
|
“Had better missed the school”
I came home from school, had lunch and began my lessons.
I opened my diary and realized that I had a lot of work to do.
Ten math exercises, two biology lessons, each of which was three pages long, history, seven English exercises, including learning a poem by heart and a recital.
I put my diary away and asked my mother:
“Mum, I have so much homework; please can I miss school tomorrow?”
“What lessons do you have?”
“Plenty of math, two biology lessons, seven English exercises and a poem by heart. Please, can I skip lessons tomorrow?”
“No, you cannot. Go and do your homework; I will check it later.”
Persuading my mother is difficult. I went to my room and pretended to do my work until midnight. I thought she would be asleep by this point, so I quietly came out of my room. But, as luck would have it, my mother was sitting in the chair waiting for me.
Since I had only completed half of my work, we sat up for more than two hours. I did learn my lessons, but since I overslept, I didn't go to school the next day. My efforts were completely in vain!
I came home from school, had lunch and began my lessons.
I opened my diary and realized that I had a lot of work to do.
Ten math exercises, two biology lessons, each of which was three pages long, history, seven English exercises, including learning a poem by heart and a recital.
I put my diary away and asked my mother:
“Mum, I have so much homework; please can I miss school tomorrow?”
“What lessons do you have?”
“Plenty of math, two biology lessons, seven English exercises and a poem by heart. Please, can I skip lessons tomorrow?”
“No, you cannot. Go and do your homework; I will check it later.”
Persuading my mother is difficult. I went to my room and pretended to do my work until midnight. I thought she would be asleep by this point, so I quietly came out of my room. But, as luck would have it, my mother was sitting in the chair waiting for me.
Since I had only completed half of my work, we sat up for more than two hours. I did learn my lessons, but since I overslept, I didn't go to school the next day. My efforts were completely in vain!
Rima Tofanyan
13 years old
Find Rima Tofanyan's stories (8)
^ top
|
“I do not want to play the role of Argishtie, I am a girl”
Have you ever heard of nine form students taking part in a school performance?
OK, even if you have heard about it, it doesn’t change anything. I only want to say that now people do not do these kinds of things.
Do you get what I mean? Now, please try to explain it to our young history teacher.
“We have a performance on Tuesday.”
“Oh, no!”
“Why no?”
“It’s a shame; we won’t do it”, said Ashot.
“But I've already given roles to everyone.”
“Noo!”
“And I have the role of king Argishtie”, I added in a displeased tone.
“That role is not that bad, I think”, my teacher got surprised.
“OK, even if it is a good role, I can’t play it, because I do not look like king Argishtie.”
“What makes you think you don't?”
“First of all, I am a girl, second, the role…”, But I stopped here. I did not have the courage to say the role was too long. It felt shameful.
“Girl, boy… it’s all the same. The most important thing is that you play your part well. OK?”
Her words made me happy; they meant that she understood me, that she was going to give me another role.
“OK, let’s start our rehearsal. Start king Argishtie.”
“No!” Alas, she didn’t give my role to anyone else. I knew she wouldn’t.
I wrote so much. I wish my teacher read my story and tried to understand me.
Have you ever heard of nine form students taking part in a school performance?
OK, even if you have heard about it, it doesn’t change anything. I only want to say that now people do not do these kinds of things.
Do you get what I mean? Now, please try to explain it to our young history teacher.
“We have a performance on Tuesday.”
“Oh, no!”
“Why no?”
“It’s a shame; we won’t do it”, said Ashot.
“But I've already given roles to everyone.”
“Noo!”
“And I have the role of king Argishtie”, I added in a displeased tone.
“That role is not that bad, I think”, my teacher got surprised.
“OK, even if it is a good role, I can’t play it, because I do not look like king Argishtie.”
“What makes you think you don't?”
“First of all, I am a girl, second, the role…”, But I stopped here. I did not have the courage to say the role was too long. It felt shameful.
“Girl, boy… it’s all the same. The most important thing is that you play your part well. OK?”
Her words made me happy; they meant that she understood me, that she was going to give me another role.
“OK, let’s start our rehearsal. Start king Argishtie.”
“No!” Alas, she didn’t give my role to anyone else. I knew she wouldn’t.
I wrote so much. I wish my teacher read my story and tried to understand me.
Eleonora Harutyunyan
15 years old
Find Eleonora Harutyunyan's stories (13)
^ top
|
“The Cat Which Was Also a Dog”
They brought me the kitten when she was only four months old. Chika hid under the bed and started mewing in a strange way. My mother’s friend, who had given us the cat, said to us:
“Chika has grown up among dogs. That’s the reason for her strange meow.”
Actually she wasn’t mewing at all, she was barking like a doggy. "She resembled a dog in many ways. One day mother came home after work, took off her gloves and Chika quickly took one and hid under the arm-chair with it.
“Bring it back, you little fool!” shouted my mother, tapping Chika on the nose with the other glove.
We were very surprised when we saw Chika coming out from under the arm-chair with a guilty look, a dusty muzzle and the glove in her teeth.
Chika is very shy. She hides when we have guests and comes out only when they are gone.
One time we weren’t even able to find her.
I was sad but then I saw Chika lying on my pillow, yawning and peering at me with her cunning eyes.
They brought me the kitten when she was only four months old. Chika hid under the bed and started mewing in a strange way. My mother’s friend, who had given us the cat, said to us:
“Chika has grown up among dogs. That’s the reason for her strange meow.”
Actually she wasn’t mewing at all, she was barking like a doggy. "She resembled a dog in many ways. One day mother came home after work, took off her gloves and Chika quickly took one and hid under the arm-chair with it.
“Bring it back, you little fool!” shouted my mother, tapping Chika on the nose with the other glove.
We were very surprised when we saw Chika coming out from under the arm-chair with a guilty look, a dusty muzzle and the glove in her teeth.
Chika is very shy. She hides when we have guests and comes out only when they are gone.
One time we weren’t even able to find her.
I was sad but then I saw Chika lying on my pillow, yawning and peering at me with her cunning eyes.
Constantine Begidjanyan
Find Constantine Begidjanyan's stories (5)
^ top
|
“Rex”
We have a dog; his name is Rex. He appeared in our house when my father was busy in his workshop; it was a cold winter day. Rex entered the workshop and hid there. My father pitied the puppy and brought him in. Rex didn't need much time to get used to us and his surroundings. He comes with us to school every morning, waits for us to go through the school doors and then returns home.
We have a dog; his name is Rex. He appeared in our house when my father was busy in his workshop; it was a cold winter day. Rex entered the workshop and hid there. My father pitied the puppy and brought him in. Rex didn't need much time to get used to us and his surroundings. He comes with us to school every morning, waits for us to go through the school doors and then returns home.
Knarik Saghatelyan
Find Knarik Saghatelyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“Stray Animals & Me”
I like animals very much. When dogs and cats come up to me, I always pet their heads and scratch them behind their ears. If I happen to have bread and cheese with me, I feed them with great pleasure. As for sparrows, I’d like to catch and pat one of them, but I think they may get hurt so I haven’t tried it yet; I only feed them.
I like animals very much. When dogs and cats come up to me, I always pet their heads and scratch them behind their ears. If I happen to have bread and cheese with me, I feed them with great pleasure. As for sparrows, I’d like to catch and pat one of them, but I think they may get hurt so I haven’t tried it yet; I only feed them.
Tsovinar Talyan
Find Tsovinar Talyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“Lost Dreams”
There was a kitten in my grandmother’s yard. I liked the kitten very much. I pet it and fed it whenever I went to my granny’s place. I used to cover it with a woolen cloth when it rained. I asked my mother if I could bring the kitten to keep it at home but my father wouldn’t allow it. He used to say:
“We are not few in number. There is no place for a cat. Can you imagine us keeping a cat in this tiny flat?”
Finally, though, my father gave up. I was very glad to know I was going to have a cat the following week.
We visited granny. I went out to the yard. There was no cat there.
“Pussy, pussy… hey, pussy…”
There was no answer. I asked my granny:
“Where is the kitten, where has it gone?”
“They took it away.”
The kitten was gone, my dreams were gone too.
There was a kitten in my grandmother’s yard. I liked the kitten very much. I pet it and fed it whenever I went to my granny’s place. I used to cover it with a woolen cloth when it rained. I asked my mother if I could bring the kitten to keep it at home but my father wouldn’t allow it. He used to say:
“We are not few in number. There is no place for a cat. Can you imagine us keeping a cat in this tiny flat?”
Finally, though, my father gave up. I was very glad to know I was going to have a cat the following week.
We visited granny. I went out to the yard. There was no cat there.
“Pussy, pussy… hey, pussy…”
There was no answer. I asked my granny:
“Where is the kitten, where has it gone?”
“They took it away.”
The kitten was gone, my dreams were gone too.
Nare Galstyan
Find Nare Galstyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
I have a habit of saving some money six months before the New Year in order to buy presents for all the members of my family. It's true that I remind them of that so much, that everyone's cup of patience becomes full... If I didn't exist, no one else would have bought them presents. But maybe there wouldn't be anyone to annoy them either.
I have a habit of saving some money six months before the New Year in order to buy presents for all the members of my family. It's true that I remind them of that so much, that everyone's cup of patience becomes full... If I didn't exist, no one else would have bought them presents. But maybe there wouldn't be anyone to annoy them either.
Arpine Hakobyan
Find Arpine Hakobyan's stories (4)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist, no one would disturb my sister while she does her homework, since now she is obliged to answer my questions without stop.
If I didn't exist, no one would disturb my sister while she does her homework, since now she is obliged to answer my questions without stop.
Lyuba Chichyan
Find Lyuba Chichyan's stories (2)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist, oh, that would have been a huge disappointment. The history teacher wouldn't have anyone to put her hopes on to answer correctly, like it happened when the head of the teachers' group came to overlook our class. If I didn't exist, who would have kept up the face of the classroom? Who? This is, of course, a joke. I cannot say what would have happened if I didn't exist because if I didn't exist, in that case I wouldn't know what would have happened, if I didn't exist.
If I didn't exist, oh, that would have been a huge disappointment. The history teacher wouldn't have anyone to put her hopes on to answer correctly, like it happened when the head of the teachers' group came to overlook our class. If I didn't exist, who would have kept up the face of the classroom? Who? This is, of course, a joke. I cannot say what would have happened if I didn't exist because if I didn't exist, in that case I wouldn't know what would have happened, if I didn't exist.
Lusine Hakobyan
Find Lusine Hakobyan's stories (14)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
Who would brush my little sister's hair, who would pick her up from the preschool...
Who would brush my little sister's hair, who would pick her up from the preschool...
Sona Madatyan
Find Sona Madatyan's stories (2)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist my parents would have been sad and my aunt wouldn't have lived in our house. If I didn't exist my parents would have sold our house and no one would live there. Or, since it is a very hot house, people would only live there in the winter. If I didn't exist the number of students in my class would not have been even, and the teachers wouldn't have been able to halve the English and Russian groups. They would have to take a child to another class because of me.
If I didn't exist, Levon from our class would only have gotten a 'two' in his Russian, in the entire school, if I hadn't helped him.
If I didn't exist my parents would have been sad and my aunt wouldn't have lived in our house. If I didn't exist my parents would have sold our house and no one would live there. Or, since it is a very hot house, people would only live there in the winter. If I didn't exist the number of students in my class would not have been even, and the teachers wouldn't have been able to halve the English and Russian groups. They would have to take a child to another class because of me.
If I didn't exist, Levon from our class would only have gotten a 'two' in his Russian, in the entire school, if I hadn't helped him.
Tsovinar Talyan
Find Tsovinar Talyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist, Gor would have been the eldest in our house. And there wouldn't be a birthday in our house in March. No one other than me would have learned his lessons and no one would know how to swim. No one other than me would have so often written for 'Khabarbzik'.
If I didn't exist, Gor would have been the eldest in our house. And there wouldn't be a birthday in our house in March. No one other than me would have learned his lessons and no one would know how to swim. No one other than me would have so often written for 'Khabarbzik'.
Lilit Babloyan
Find Lilit Babloyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“If I didn\'t exist...”
If I didn't exist, my sisters would be late for class, they would remain illiterate. One time, I had too much work and slept in late. We woke up in the morning at 8.40AM. We arrived to school for the second lesson.
If I didn't exist, this is how it would be everyday given by God.
If I didn't exist, my sisters would be late for class, they would remain illiterate. One time, I had too much work and slept in late. We woke up in the morning at 8.40AM. We arrived to school for the second lesson.
If I didn't exist, this is how it would be everyday given by God.
Knarik Saghatelyan
Find Knarik Saghatelyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“The Cheerful Bag”
It was the first lesson. I wanted to take my book out of my bag but there was no trace of it. I looked at my classmates in surprise and said:
“Armen, give me my bag.”
“I have not taken it,” answered Armen.
I looked at Artavazd.
“I haven’t taken it either.”
They all started blaming one another roundabout.
The teacher got angry.
“Do return Anna’s bag immediately!”
Suddenly we heard Hayarpi say:
“Perhaps you’ve left it at home, Anna.”
For a moment I glanced at my friend reproachfully but then I asked the teacher to let me go home. On my way I thought about whether the bag was at home or it was a joke on the part of my classmates which wouldn’t work. When I got home I found out my bag was really there…
It’s worth mentioning that I then apologized to my friends about the bag.
It was the first lesson. I wanted to take my book out of my bag but there was no trace of it. I looked at my classmates in surprise and said:
“Armen, give me my bag.”
“I have not taken it,” answered Armen.
I looked at Artavazd.
“I haven’t taken it either.”
They all started blaming one another roundabout.
The teacher got angry.
“Do return Anna’s bag immediately!”
Suddenly we heard Hayarpi say:
“Perhaps you’ve left it at home, Anna.”
For a moment I glanced at my friend reproachfully but then I asked the teacher to let me go home. On my way I thought about whether the bag was at home or it was a joke on the part of my classmates which wouldn’t work. When I got home I found out my bag was really there…
It’s worth mentioning that I then apologized to my friends about the bag.
Anna Badalyan
Find Anna Badalyan's stories (1)
^ top
|
“You to Me, Me to You”
One day my mother, my two brothers and I went to the Zoo. Although we had come to see the tigers and the lions, we could only see lots of bees round us. When we were about to leave the Zoo, my mother noted:
"It's good that the bees didn't sting us."
She was just finishing her sentence, when we heard Stepanik's cries:
"Akh!!!"
A bee fell to the ground out of Stepanik's hand.
"Look, the bee is dead," we said in a way to calm my brother.
"It stung me, so I paid it back."
One day my mother, my two brothers and I went to the Zoo. Although we had come to see the tigers and the lions, we could only see lots of bees round us. When we were about to leave the Zoo, my mother noted:
"It's good that the bees didn't sting us."
She was just finishing her sentence, when we heard Stepanik's cries:
"Akh!!!"
A bee fell to the ground out of Stepanik's hand.
"Look, the bee is dead," we said in a way to calm my brother.
"It stung me, so I paid it back."
Lilit Babloyan
Find Lilit Babloyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“The Old Acquaintance”
We had a neighbor. Her name was Peacock. My younger brother, Haik, loved Grandmother Peacock and embraced her every time he saw her.
Once we went to the zoo with my mother. When we were at the bird cage my mother pointed to something.
“Haik, look at the peacock.”
Haik looked at my mother in surprise and exclaimed:
“Why have they put Grandmother Peacock in the cage?”
We had a neighbor. Her name was Peacock. My younger brother, Haik, loved Grandmother Peacock and embraced her every time he saw her.
Once we went to the zoo with my mother. When we were at the bird cage my mother pointed to something.
“Haik, look at the peacock.”
Haik looked at my mother in surprise and exclaimed:
“Why have they put Grandmother Peacock in the cage?”
Narek Galstyan
Find Narek Galstyan's stories (3)
^ top
|
“I Promised To Return”
Our relative and his grandson had come to our place to stay for several days. My younger brother, Artavazd, is a funny guy. When I was about to go to school he asked me:
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes”.
“Will you com back?
“I will.”
“In how many days will you return?”
Our relative and his grandson had come to our place to stay for several days. My younger brother, Artavazd, is a funny guy. When I was about to go to school he asked me:
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes”.
“Will you com back?
“I will.”
“In how many days will you return?”
Tsovinar Talyan
Find Tsovinar Talyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
“For the Rest of My Life”
Once we were at a party. I was still a child. They served us barbeque. The fragrance of it was everywhere. People started trying it. Suddenly, the hostess noticed I wasn’t eating. She asked in surprise.
“Why aren’t you eating, my dear Anna?”
“Thank you, but we have already eaten barbeque this year.”
Once we were at a party. I was still a child. They served us barbeque. The fragrance of it was everywhere. People started trying it. Suddenly, the hostess noticed I wasn’t eating. She asked in surprise.
“Why aren’t you eating, my dear Anna?”
“Thank you, but we have already eaten barbeque this year.”
Anna Tonyan
Find Anna Tonyan's stories (2)
^ top
|
“The Lie”
The first of April is the fool’s day, as you might know. My brother and his classmates had decided to celebrate the day so they went to a café after classes to eat lahmajo. As usual the waitress asked them to pay at the end. The boys were surprised and told the waitress that they didn’t have money. The waitresses and waiters of the café got so confused that they even threatened the boys with calling the police. But all this was in vain; the boys either persisted, or just glanced at each other. One of the waiters suggested that the boys leave a hostage and try to fetch money to pay the bill. The boys did not quite like the idea because they knew they wouldn't be able to find the money. They would even be reprimanded for having come to a café without letting their parents know. The waiters did not know what to do and the boys confessed that they had been pretending all that time and that they had enough money to pay.
A couple of days later I went to the café with some friends. We had hardly taken our seats when the waiter demanded that we pay the bill beforehand. I was very angry with my brother and his friends and at their silly joke. Because of this they do not serve us well any more in that café.
The first of April is the fool’s day, as you might know. My brother and his classmates had decided to celebrate the day so they went to a café after classes to eat lahmajo. As usual the waitress asked them to pay at the end. The boys were surprised and told the waitress that they didn’t have money. The waitresses and waiters of the café got so confused that they even threatened the boys with calling the police. But all this was in vain; the boys either persisted, or just glanced at each other. One of the waiters suggested that the boys leave a hostage and try to fetch money to pay the bill. The boys did not quite like the idea because they knew they wouldn't be able to find the money. They would even be reprimanded for having come to a café without letting their parents know. The waiters did not know what to do and the boys confessed that they had been pretending all that time and that they had enough money to pay.
A couple of days later I went to the café with some friends. We had hardly taken our seats when the waiter demanded that we pay the bill beforehand. I was very angry with my brother and his friends and at their silly joke. Because of this they do not serve us well any more in that café.
Julia Ghazaryan
Find Julia Ghazaryan's stories (1)
^ top
|
“Guys, let’s skip classes today,” said Edward.
“No, it is not a good idea,” I said.
“We better lock the door,” said Karen.
“Let’s do it, if you want it so much,” said Felix.
“What if they get angry,” said Ann fearfully.
“We can say the lock got broken,” said Felix.
“Right, because it is old,” I said inspired.
“We better leave some of the pupils outside the class. That would be more convincing.”
“We'll do that.”
“Guys, if you want to eat something do it now, because we won’t be able to do it after.”
Everybody left the class. The bell rang.
“How much time is left?” I asked Felix.
“Seven minutes.”
Seven minutes passed. The bell rang again.
“Where is the key?”
“Here.”
“Give it to me. Gevorg, Anna, Susik go outside.”
Arthur opened the door and Gevorg, Anna and Susik went out. Arthur closed the door.
Somebody began to move the doorknob from the other side. We all knew what to do. We began to cry that the door had been locked. A few minutes passed. We couldn’t keep the door closed anymore, so we had to open it. The teacher entered the class. Her face was red with anger.
“If you think you can get away with it, you are wrong.”
And she began the class.
“Felo?”
“I haven’t repeated the lesson yet.”
“Ann?”
“I went to the doctor and didn’t have time to study.”
“Samvel?”
“I am not ready.”
“Everybody gets an F. I am very hurt. Do you understand that each time you do something bad a nerve cell dies in me?”
The children laughed. The bell rang. And so we went home with bad marks but still happy, admiring the spring on the way.
“Guys, let’s skip classes today,” said Edward.
“No, it is not a good idea,” I said.
“We better lock the door,” said Karen.
“Let’s do it, if you want it so much,” said Felix.
“What if they get angry,” said Ann fearfully.
“We can say the lock got broken,” said Felix.
“Right, because it is old,” I said inspired.
“We better leave some of the pupils outside the class. That would be more convincing.”
“We'll do that.”
“Guys, if you want to eat something do it now, because we won’t be able to do it after.”
Everybody left the class. The bell rang.
“How much time is left?” I asked Felix.
“Seven minutes.”
Seven minutes passed. The bell rang again.
“Where is the key?”
“Here.”
“Give it to me. Gevorg, Anna, Susik go outside.”
Arthur opened the door and Gevorg, Anna and Susik went out. Arthur closed the door.
Somebody began to move the doorknob from the other side. We all knew what to do. We began to cry that the door had been locked. A few minutes passed. We couldn’t keep the door closed anymore, so we had to open it. The teacher entered the class. Her face was red with anger.
“If you think you can get away with it, you are wrong.”
And she began the class.
“Felo?”
“I haven’t repeated the lesson yet.”
“Ann?”
“I went to the doctor and didn’t have time to study.”
“Samvel?”
“I am not ready.”
“Everybody gets an F. I am very hurt. Do you understand that each time you do something bad a nerve cell dies in me?”
The children laughed. The bell rang. And so we went home with bad marks but still happy, admiring the spring on the way.
Narineh Daneghyan
13 years old
Find Narineh Daneghyan's stories (9)
^ top
|
Children's Pages
| Old Sites
| Donations
Newspaper |
