ABSTRACT
When I first came to Urfa, I had no plans for marriage. I intended to return to Marash before taking that step. But when I recovered from typhus, the words of the writer Bedros Tourian came to me: “One who is about to die wants two things: first life, and then, someone to weep for him.” I decided I wanted someone to weep for me. Previously when friends had suggested marriage to me, I had said, “That’s for Germans and Turks these days, notfor Armenians. ”Dr. Kuenzlerwas one of those friends. Itoldhim now about my change of outlook and asked him to introduce me to the girl he had in mind. I made the same request of Varter, a member of my congregation. She was an exile from Mezire. Her father and husband had been killed just before the deportations. Her seventh child had been born early in the march and had died immediately. Two of her children and her husband’s parents were killed during the march. (Her mother, who was exiled with another group, reached Aleppo, but died before Varter could see her.) One morning Varter awoke to find the caravan departed and out of sight. Alone in the desert with her remaining four children aged two to eight, she sought refuge in a dry well.
