MY HEART IS ARMENIAN
A Centennial Tribute to Miss Büll of
By: Vrej Saroukhanian (Translated
from Original text in Armenian)
Translated by Rev. Fr. Vertanes Kalayjian, Archpriest,(1939-2016-RIP)
The group gathered in the patient’s
room of the old-age home in the German city of
-She knows seven languages: Estonian,
Russian, French, English, German, Turkish and Armenian hastened to inform the
caretaker, it has been a few hours now, she has forgotten all of it, can’t talk,
she does not understand us either.
In
her bed, very near to her end, after her mute monologue the woman suddenly
began to talk. Everyone was visibly shocked. She was talking to those present
in an unknown language. Suddenly, the caretaker responded to the near death
patient with a smile. Everyone’s attention was upon her now, and the dying
woman with a faint smile called her closer and
addressing everyone in the room she said: “My heart is Armenian!”
The Armenian caretaker translated. The German
Doctor was confused for a moment. He said:
-“In such
instances the dying person speaks specially in the language of her childhood,
isn’t a fact that in that moment of dying, at the end of reviewing of her
life the childhood days come to the
fore, the mother tongue, the parents, and those who are most dear to her. Why this lonely Estonian lady in
In his practice as a doctor he had not
experienced such an event but visibly startled, started to dig into his memory.
The Armenian refugee understood the doctor and handed over an old diary which
was faded through much readings and handling. On the cover was written:
-“Anna Hedwig Büll, Estonian Missionary.” The doctor asked for the
diary for a short time, otherwise he thought, his specialized experience will
crack.
“Anna Hedwig Büll, I was born in 1887 on Jan. 23 in the city of
“I
learned in 1909 about the horrific massacres of Armenians in
The carriage that took us to
-
“Hyena! Don’t you dare to
touch me!” I screamed with all the languages I knew!
-“Ahmet, you don’t have anything to do with her, you will bring headache upon
us all, it is better not to loose time and carry the loot to its place. To
avoid unnecessary headache, stay away!
With all they controlled, the wild ones and departed with the loot!”
That was my first acquaintance with a Turk!
“In 1911, I arrived at Cilicia and started to work at the
“When teachers were gone a short distance, I
wrapped her with a bed sheet and brought her to the orphanage and had her lay
down in my bed. With great difficulty I made her to stand on her feet. That
girl later became a missionary and carried out such a great work in the Near
East efforts to gather the orphans and I wrote her biography in Armenian. I
worked there until 1915 when the Young Turks opened up the incurable wounds of
hellish massacres upon the conscience of and the morality of the entire
humanity. I have seen how the soldiers
were betting on tearing the Armenian women’s pregnant wombs with a sword to see
if the fetus was a boy or a girl. The justice was being slaughtered but the
world’s conscience was pretending to be deaf and blind!”
“For the summer vacations I had taken the
children to the Red Monastery where *St. Nersess the Graceful and St. Krikor
Bahlavouni studied and attained the title of “Wisdom Lover-Իմաստասէր.” Just
then and there I received an urgent telegram from my sisters:
“The mother is near her death and she is not capable to surrender her soul to
God without you being present; if you are capable, please come!”
“After a lengthy absence finally I entered my paternal
home, my sisters, already wearing black, rebuked me very coldly:
“You
could have come earlier… you
tortured mother. When she died, we took out your photo she kept in her bosom,
and to spare her continuous heartache in the other world, we buried it with
her.”
Our father had passed away
long ago!! I understood that I was a stranger in our family. Time had
pulverized many things. I entered the bedroom at least to let go off of my
tears freely. I saw on the table a periodical of French Protestants:
“Our brothers and sisters in the
East are again being martyred for their faith. Our correspondent from Marash is
reporting that fanatic Turkish mob, have gathered four thousand Armenians in
the Mother church of Holy Mother of God, have firmly closed the doors and have
set to fire.”
“My stay there was impossible. Same night
without bidding farewell to my sisters I arrived at the train station in the
dark corridor of the wagon my tears were only thing that were consoling me. ‘I
will not see my fatherland again.”
The physician was
confounded beyond description. He was pressing his eyes with his fingers
rubbing his forehead. “Is
it possible to be dedicated to a total stranger? Is the sympathy does not
recognize any boundaries?”
“1916-1919 I worked with the same missionary
organization at the
“And the mornings were bringing most dreadful
emotional upheaval with the appearance of the Turkish Asgyar (Soldier). As I
remember, I am trembling, shaking with my whole body when in 1918 a Turkish
group came to the orphanage and …announced that. ‘We must, the entire orphanage
must relocate the orphans to a more secure “safer” location in
“I understood, immediately that the ‘safe
location’ was the product of “Turkish diplomacy” and the place was the
desert of Der-el-Zor, I was shaken
with fear but I maintained stubbornly that this is against the international
laws…..
…. They laughed at me with utter cynicism. I insisted that I would
appeal the German, English, French and other consulates of other countries, the
international missions. They, with the same cynicism answered that those
countries were the perpetual friends of
“Every day, in different languages I was
preparing letters and sending them to the consular offices of the European
countries, to the missions and different Humanitarian Organizations. A few days
later, three Turks surrounded me in the courtyard of the orphanage, they cursed
and threatened me that they would along with their friends and German
assistants’ cooperation they would relocate me to Der-el-Zor, if I persisted in
the same manner. I revolted, ‘I have already sent letters where necessary. If
something happens to me, you will give an account to the international
organizations’- cursing in Turkish finally they left.”
“In
1919 the political status changed in
The
Physician nervously made uncomfortable gestures and opened the window, the
evening breeze made him more alert. The children were playing in the courtyard.
The doctor did not listen to the melodies of Beethoven according to his prior
pride, his disturbed soul spoiled it.
“-Is my nation equally culpable with
the Turks, how can I explain that to my university graduate son, who very soon
will defend his dissertation on the German History?” As if talking to the diary
as he leafed through it with his still strange disturbance. He continued his
reading:
“In 1922 I registered as a member to the ‘Christian
Mission in the East’ the evangelical humanitarian organization founded
in Strasburg, and left for
“I
understood that at the risk of my life, I would participate in the work of
saving of the ill. With superhuman efforts, by asking and pleading I was able
to open a hospital, where some of the Armenian doctors of
“There were too many orphans! I developed a unique form of adoption through
which European benefactor families would adopt a child in a refugee family,
established in
“For some time now the orphans and refugee
Armenians called me “Mother Bũll”, even though I did not marry and had no children,
but the Armenian orphans calling me Mother-‘Mayrig- ՄԱՅՐԻԿ’ the
word was a consolation and thus I lived the joy of motherhood. Never did regret
it, that I dedicated my life to the Armenian orphans.”
-
“O Lord God! What was the
sin of that people that all of
-
“Are you talking with the patients again? You
have not rested even at night!” Complained the wife, suggesting to her husband
to take medication to sleep.
- “No, no I am not talking with the patients. I was talking with the
conscience
of
my people, something does not let me sleep for quite sometime now”, the doctor
tried to explain to his wife!
-
“That is a daytime job. The wife cut it short,”
having lost all hope for the caresses of love and half disturbed turned over to
sleep.
Till morning light, the doctor was in struggle with his people’s
conscience, made peace, fought again and made peace again! In the morning he
put the diary in his briefcase to continue in his office.
“In 1947, All Armenians were dispersed all over, were given
the possibility to repatriate to Soviet Armenia. Many Armenians from
“Is
“In
“In 1965 I went to
“My beloved Armenians, do you hear me? I have
not regretted what I have dedicated my entire life to you all!... My Heart is Armenian!”
Late night ring of the telephone raised the alarm.
-
“Deegin Anahid, I have a very big request, you
have to teach me a little Armenian to speak, and that in a few weeks.” The doctor said hastily, forgetting even to
say “Parev.” ..
He did not know how to justify such an unusual request.
-“Dear Doctor, I am glad to be helpful to you, immediately, in the
morning I will come to your office,” with warmth responded Anahid, without
being able to guess the German’s mysterious intent of the request.
The days of Miss Büll were numbered and the doctor was
attempting to learn what he wanted to say in that short period of time. During
daytime Anahid was teaching and in the evening the Doctor had the Armenian
Language text book in his hand.
On a regular morning, the Doctor without as much hiding his
proud smile, he entered the patient’s room without his white uniform. The nurse
gave the signal to bring him in. The Doctor smiled mysteriously and said,
-“At this moment I am not a physician.”
As he approached Miss
Büll’s bed, he sat down, took her tired hands in his palm, looked into her
flickering eyes and unexpectedly, he began in Armenian.
-“Greetings, my dear Armenian Anna Hadwig Büll, I am talking to you
through one of the seven languages that you know, the one that for
you is your mother tongue, in Armenian!”
The half closed and
fading eyes shined for a moment she did not understand what was happening with
her she made a motion to have her seated.
-“Dear beloved mother Büll, I see that even you cannot believe
to your eyes, but I am speaking Armenian, with your mother tongue … I awe it
all to you only! I learned from your diary that my people also were an
accomplice to the crime….
The Germans even openly have assisted the Turks, have instructed and
defended even have encouraged them. O, Lord, I am ashamed of it all. Of course
same German intellectuals have criticized the government, but they were muted
as the light of a candle against the raging storm. I got to know and loved the
Armenians. In my heart also a little bit of an Armenian awakened. Do you know
why I learned Armenian? Now I want to ask your pardon for the sins of my
people!”
“The Armenians are
big-hearted, they forgive fast. From the wide open eyelids, in amazement, two
drops of tears rolled slowly with pride over the shriveled cheeks and through
the wrinkles to her lips. Miss Büll took the hands of the Doctor in her palms
and having gathered her last energy and in Armenian whispered one word at a
time!
-“I am proud that my heart is Armenian, and I am dying as an
Armenian…. Dear Doctor, you are your nation’s conscious and honor. I forgive
and those like you on behalf of my Armenians. I am going to my slaughtered, and
from famine and plague deceased Armenian orphans of mine…..”
Miss Büll’s weakened hands dropped slowly.. and through her
lips her last breath came in Armenian”
“My Heart…..”
Translated by Rev. Fr. Vertanes Kalayjian,
Archpriest,(1939-2016-RIP)
Pastor Emeritus of
August 12, 2015
(*Two of the prominent Catholicoi Cilicia)
