Ruzanna Markaryan, 59 years old
In those difficult days when we already knew we had to leave Artsakh, with tears in our eyes and soulful pain from losing our homeland, we decided in 5 minutes to at least pack a few essential items into one bag, namely clothes.
Suddenly, lifting my head, I saw a souvenir, a samovar that my mother bought 70 years ago, if not earlier. When we had guests, after the feast, she treated them to tea. First, she spread a tablecloth, then placed our pride and joy — the "Samovar" souvenir in the middle of the table, followed by everything needed for tea. Tea was served in a set of red and white polka dot cups, which, unfortunately, remained at home. When I grew up, my mother asked me to take care of the "Samovar" and pass it on to my daughters, and they — to their children, so that it would become a family heirloom.
When I look at the "Samovar", I remember my mother, her kind advice, and the beautiful smile with which she greeted everyone who crossed the threshold of our home. My heart is filled with blood. My mother, Goar Gaykovna Markaryan, may you rest in peace. You will always live in our hearts!
Ruzanna Markaryan, 59 years old
In those difficult days when we already knew we had to leave Artsakh, with tears in our eyes and soulful pain from losing our homeland, we decided in 5 minutes to at least pack a few essential items into one bag, namely clothes.
Suddenly, lifting my head, I saw a souvenir, a samovar that my mother bought 70 years ago, if not earlier. When we had guests, after the feast, she treated them to tea. First, she spread a tablecloth, then placed our pride and joy — the "Samovar" souvenir in the middle of the table, followed by everything needed for tea. Tea was served in a set of red and white polka dot cups, which, unfortunately, remained at home. When I grew up, my mother asked me to take care of the "Samovar" and pass it on to my daughters, and they — to their children, so that it would become a family heirloom.
When I look at the "Samovar", I remember my mother, her kind advice, and the beautiful smile with which she greeted everyone who crossed the threshold of our home. My heart is filled with blood. My mother, Goar Gaykovna Markaryan, may you rest in peace. You will always live in our hearts!
