I saw Manoush* last summer at the Rose Garden. We were attending her neighbor Azniv’s memorial. We lost Azniv who was almost ninety. She had become a spiritual guardian to my friend Arpineh and me. We had her humor, her words from the Scriptures, and her prayers as we were crossing over the line of our 70th year.

I had met Manoush a few times while walking pass her front door to reach Azniv’s little back house. She always had that gracious smile, her blue grey eyes reflecting the genuineness of her greeting. Azniv had talked about her kindness. She had mentioned that Manoush would bring her the bulletin of St. Garabed* church every Sunday afternoon. I did not see Manoush for a long time after the memorial.

Three months had passed, it was early December last year. I was at St. Garabed praying at the back of the sanctuary, in front of the large painting of Christ on the cross. I sensed someone standing behind me. I continued praying, then after some moments of silence I turned back. There was Manoush praying. I would have walked away to not disturb her prayers. But this time she spoke to me. I did not understand her words. She continued motioning with her hands to her head and lips. I realized she had a stroke. My heart pierced with pain, I said to her, “I will pray.”

I saw Manoush occasionally at church. I knew where she would sit regularly. Another month had passed and we were in mid January. I was in line for communion. I had taken my portion of bread dipped in wine from the priest. As I turned my head to my left, I noticed Manoush close by looking at me. Instead of going to the right to reach my seat, I walked over to her. We forgot the solemnity of the occasion. Her face had a bright smile, I was smiling with my mouth open. There were many communicants moving right and left. We were oblivious of others. Our hands extended, we touched in the joy that God gives to friends. Here was a new friend, who had lost her speech but not her heart.

————————————–

* Names changed.