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Flee – What Pegman Saw

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This week Pegman takes us to Armenia. You are welcome to use the photo provided in the prompt, or chose from among many photo spheres from across the country.

Will you dig into Armenia’s rich history? Delve into its present? Imagine its future? Or will you conjure your own alternate reality? The only rule is to keep your story, poem, or essay under 150 words.

Once  your piece is polished, share it with others using the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others work is part of the fun!

Thank you to Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly party.

Having Armenian friends, I allowed myself to use a mix-up of their names for authenticity as well as using part of their history to create mine.  Though born in Lebanon, they will always say they are Armenians, then Lebanese… and finally Canadian!

Click on the blue frog to add your link and join in the fun!

Early April, 1915, Kevork and Siran gathered their children.

“Sebouh, Houri, we must leave as soon as it is dark.  It is no longer safe here.”

“But why, Baba?  What have we done?”

“Nothing, my sweet.  War has come to our land and the Ottoman Empire has chosen to destroy us.”

“We’re lucky that it has not reached us here, yet,” Mama added.  “We have a chance to escape this massacre.”

“I still don’t understand why,” Sebouh cried.

“Son, there are no explanations to justify destroying a people.  Men become crazed with power, believing their religion is the only one and others should not exist.  Dominance becomes their religion.

Houri frowned, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand this.”

They packed what they could carry and left, eventually making it to Lebanon to start anew.

Two generations later, civil war erupted and the Arakelian family found itself once more fleeing for safety.

41 thoughts on “Flee – What Pegman Saw”

    • Indeed… can’t help but think of Syria and the devastation going on there still…
      War. Such a waste. For what?
      Peace, absolutely, peace ! xoxo

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  6. Dear Dale,

    We were kind of on the same page this week. What a horrible time for innocent people. I don’t understand…I will never understand,, for that matter, I don’t WANT to understand.
    Well done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I feel like we’ve all been bathed in this tragedy, this genocide that has remained hidden within history’s pages for so long. Peace isn’t just the absence of conflict, it’s the presence of justice.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Your story nourishes me.

    Amidst the thorns of war blood does bleed. An so it is the simple gardener whom must pull up root, stock and seed. And toll again to cultivate hopes and dreams.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Having been involved in producing an anthology of recent (well, C21st) refugee stories, I can recognise the truth in this. Very effectively done, without wallowing in the gut-wrenching sadness of leaving a home.

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  13. One family saved among so many who fell. And to have to flee a second time too – history repeating in the worst way. A well described sense of sadness here, Dale. Very well written

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    • So very difficult. Though, it is two generations later, I somehow wonder if the original ones who left Armenia survived to live through the civil war in Lebanon (in the seventies…)
      Thank you, dear lady!

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  17. Compassionately told, the story of the refugees, twice over. I reflect on the Syrian refugee families in my town. They are very welcomed, and dis-orientated by the differences in our cultures. Tragic.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Sadly far too true and real! I’ve seen (and see) the destruction of soul & mind as a result of war/neglect/being abandoned and it’s truly heartbraking.

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