An
excerpt
Chapter 1
June 10, 1923 -- On the island of Corfu, Greece"Quickly, boys! Form a line," called Mrs. Walker.
Aram Davidian looked up from his game of marbles. Mrs. Walker was standing in front of the old barracks. The crumbling army building had been converted into a dormitory. He and hundreds of other orphaned boys lived there.
Sarkis, Mikayel, Zaven, Vartan and some of the older boys were playing marbles too. Most of the other children were swimming in the sea, their bodies glistening in the sun.
Mrs. Walker put one hand on her hip, and used the other to shade her eyes from the glare. When Aram saw Mrs. Walker put her whistle to her lips, he stood up. The whistle shrilled. Instantly the boys stopped splashing, and swam to shore. Aram and the rest of the boys ran to the barracks and formed a line.
Aram stood between Mgerdich and Taniel. At twelve, Aram was one of the oldest boys in the group. And he felt luckier than most because he had a grandmother who was still alive. Taniel was lucky too. He had an older sister at the girls' orphanage. Poor Mgerdich had no family left. Nine-year-old Mgerdich reminded Aram of his own younger brother, who had vanished while they were trying to escape from Turkey.
Mgerdich looked up at Aram with a toothy grin. "Do you think she has a treat for us?" he asked hopefully.
"Maybe," said Aram. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Mrs. Walker pulled out a giant bag of sugar-coated almonds, or maybe oranges? Aram's stomach growled at the idea. The missionaries did a good job of scrounging up food for all their boys, but the menu was limited. Sometimes Aram thought that if he ever saw another bowl of mashed up lima beans he would vomit.
"Attention," said Mrs. Walker. "There is someone I would like you to meet."
The door of the barracks opened and their sports teacher, Mr. Chechian, stepped out. Many of the teachers at the orphanage were university professors and scholars who had also escaped from Turkey. These men were anxious to teach the boys as much as possible, and sometimes their lessons were boring. Mr. Chechian was different. He did fun things. He taught them all how to swim like fish, and he took them on long hikes and camping trips.
Following Mr. Chechian was a man the orphans had never seen before.
"Please welcome Mr. Melkonian, children," said Mrs. Walker. "He is an Armenian shoemaker, and he lives in Canada."
Aram looked at Mgerdich. "I wonder what he will be teaching us?" he whispered.
Mgerdich shrugged.
"Some of you will be coming to Canada," said Mr. Melkonian.
Aram could feel his heart go flippedy-flop. He had heard about Canada. It was a country so rich that you could pick gold from the trees!
"...and I want to tell you about it," continued Mr. Melkonian. He opened his bundle and pulled out a stubby black boot. "Who can tell me what this is?"
Aram put up his hand.
"Yes?"
"It is a soldier's boot."
"Close," said Mr. Melkonian. "This is a Canadian snow boot."
Many hands went up. Mr. Melkonian pointed to a boy at the far end of the line. "Please, sir," said Vartan, "what is snow?"
Aram knew what snow was. His family had come from Anatolia, and he remembered the thin blanket of cold whiteness that often covered the ground for months at a time. The children who had come from the warmer areas of Turkey never seen snow. Aram also knew that some of the boys had been born after the escape from Turkey and only knew the milder weather of Greece.
When Mr. Melkonian explained about snow, some of the boys chuckled in disbelief. Then he told them more about Canada. People from all over the world came there to live in peace. There was plenty of food and land and jobs. And no war.
To live in a place without soldiers and war would be grand, thought Aram. Still, he knew he would never leave Corfu. Who would look after his grandmother? Each Sunday his grandmother visited him at the orphanage. He would give her the bits of food that he had scrounged and collected. Sometimes that was all she had to eat. Besides, all his friends were here.
"Fifty of you will be coming back to Canada with me," said Mr. Melkonian. "Do I have any volunteers?"
"I volunteer," said Mgerdich, raising his hand.
Aram looked over at his young friend in amazement, and whispered under his breath, "put your hand down." Mikayel, Zaven, Taniel, Vartan and Sarkis also put up their hands. A few other boys put up their hands too.
But that was not nearly enough.
