Each person has a childhood hero, real or imaginary, someone whom he or she wants to be like or find. My hero was a soldier whom I had “met” when I was four or five years old.

…I remember how our eyes would shine when we would see them [the soldiers]. We would immediately gather near the fence of the kindergarten and try to stretch our small hands out from the holes of the fence and scream “Droog, davay nshan” (Friend, give a badge). I don’t know who had taught us that phrase in half Russian and half Armenian. I only remember how we would get happy when we would see small badges with the images of a star or tank in our palms that we would press firmly in our hands and immediately leave so that nobody would try to steal them from us.

Since then, the Soldier became the hero of my small and great joys. How I dreamed of becoming like him! I would often tell myself that I would grow up to become a soldier, but…dreams don’t always come true. One has new dreams and new heroes all the time, and the previous heroes continue to live and often have different names.

Growing up with me, the Soldier of my childhood went from being a dream to being a wish, the symbol of strength and courage and the One whom I would seek in the eyes of many people. I would seek the Soldier at all the ��?stations’ of the life I had lived, but in vain. I would often say to myself that I probably couldn’t find him because he was a “stranger”, didn’t look like an Armenian (he had white skin, was blue-eyed), would speak in a language that I couldn’t understand at the time, and that is why he had stayed at a distance in my childhood.

I found HIM a year ago.

…April 2016 was a turning month for many of us Armenians. The heroic boys who fought in the war in April, most of whom are still with us, while the others are looking down on us from above, helped us find many things-faith, hope, love and dreams…

In the eyes and endeavors of Adam, Robert, Armenak, Andranik, Tigran and others (with blue eyes, black eyes, white skin, dark skin, black hair and blonde hair), who actually have the same name-Armenian Soldier-I found what had been with me since childhood-the Soldier who had become the symbol of strength, courage and now pride. He was the hero who had the body and soul of an Armenian, who spoke and fought in Armenian and taught one to live and love in Armenian…

Sacrificing my wishes, the Armenian Soldier ��?gave life’ to my wish that will always live with a new color, mixed with the ��?shades’ of pain and pride that never fade. As long as I live, I will always remember and respect you, Armenian Soldier and always murmur the following: “Thank you for making my childhood dream the dream of an Armenian…”

Lusine Abrahamyan

In the photo: Participant of the Four-Day Artsakh War Harut Mnatsakanyan

Source: Hayern Aysor