Our second stop for the day was to visit a woman that is a relative as well (just not sure as to the connection) that while my grandpa Hovsepian was alive used to write to her. My mom took over the correspondence 16 years ago when grandpa died.
Her name is Takouhie Charchian and she used to be a doctor back in the day. Now she is not well mentally and physically. She lives in a dilapidated building with cement stairs leading to her home which are held up purely by angels. There are a dozen or so large containers piled in the front room used to catch water that leaks into the house each time it rains. Her home is tidy and clean but falling down around her. Please pray for Takouhie.
I don’t know how to explain this but when I travel I am not drawn to churches of any kind. I’ve always felt that these buildings took away from the purpose of worship. Too much extravagance. I am sure many of you are aghast at what I am saying. From the outside this massive building looks sterile, no greenery to soften the landscape. Upon entering the building rather then feeling a oneness with God I felt a cold chill down my back. I looked around at those seated and they stared blankly at the image of Mary holding baby Jesus. As they exited the building they would turn and face the alter and crossing themselves walk backwards out. This is done so that they do not turn their backs to the alter at anytime.