By Edwin Mirzayans

Many of us wake up every morning thinking about what we are going to do for the day. We stress about work, how we are going to get through the week, and what plans we are going to have for the weekend. We bitch and moan about the simplest of things. Time is spent on things that we think will enrich our lives. I was guilty of being this way that is until I found how to dedicate my time to those who needed it the most. I choose to volunteer at Mary Izmilyan orphanage in Yerevan, Armenia. 

The word “Orphanage” can have a negative connotation with some people. We assume that children at an orphanage are unhappy and are mistreated. We think sending money to an orphanage can change things over night. Some of us like to help, but those who do, choose to help behind the scenes.  I had never stepped foot in an orphanage or even thought about such a place until I came to Armenia.  Like some, I thought orphanages were full of sad children who longed to find families.  When I decided to be a volunteer at an orphanage, I began to feel nervous. A question arose in my mind, “What was I getting myself into?”

I had experience being around children before, but I had never been around children who were from my motherland, especially those who were living in an orphanage. Before I would begin volunteering, I had to meet the children. I was told that there were no male figures for the boys at the orphanage to look up to, and finding out that information added some pressure.  I have to say that meeting the boys at the orphanage gave me a sigh of relief. The moment I walked into the building I created a huge buzz. The children came up to me as if I was a celebrity. These children weren’t sad or mistreated; they were happy, and full of life. They were innocent curious children trying to find out who I was.

I found myself sitting on the couch surrounded by bright eyed kids. They were all talking at a hundred miles an hour. I was trying to answer ten questions at once, “Where are you from?” “What do you do?” “Do you speak English?” I didn’t know whose question to answer first. The staff at the orphanage could tell that I was going to be a breath of fresh air for these children. I had never seen so much excitement out of any group of children. The children I spent time with in America couldn’t come close to matching the excitement and energy that the twenty orphanage children were expressing.  The energy and excitement I was getting from them scared me, because I had to match what they were giving me.

The minutes wound down and it was time for me to go. But before I could leave, some of the older boys wanted to challenge me in an arm wrestling contest. To humor them, I pretended to be weak, but they caught on to what I was doing and they told me, “Do it for real. We want to know if we can beat you.” They soon learned that they were happier when I was pretending to let them win.  Soon, there was a line of children waiting to challenge me to an arm wrestling contest. One by one they stepped up to the challenge, each trying to prove their toughness to me. 

I was impressed by how quickly the kids opened up to me. I had barely spoken five sentences, mostly because the kids were doing most of the talking, and yet they were drawn to me. It was as if I was the children’s long lost relative. It was clear that the boys had no male presence, and hadn’t for a very long time. The women seemed relieved by me being there. I’m sure they thought that I was going to take some of the pressure off of them, which was fine with me.  By the end of the day, they had all told me their names, of course I couldn’t remember them all, and they wanted to know when I was coming back.  I sat on the couch and stared into the forty eyes that were looking back at me, and I responded by saying, “I’ll see you all on Monday.”

As the days and weeks went by, each of the children build a special bond with me. The younger boys bonded with me the most, because they were the ones who didn’t have the chance to grow up with a male figure. The older boys bonded with me as well, but they bonded with me on more of a sports level. They always did their own thing. Regardless of their ages, they were all smiles when I walked into their dorm.

 I noticed that within the group of boys there was a chain of command.  The eldest boy made all the decisions in the orphanage. He told the younger boys what to do and when to do it. Even among the younger boys there was a chain of command. The eldest within their group was in charge of making sure those below him weren’t stepping out of line. Anyone who didn’t listen was in for a fight. Roughhousing was a daily event, and after awhile I got used to it. At the end of the day, they all treated each other like brothers.

The boys were very good at getting what they wanted. Being the kind hearted person that I am, I fell into the trap of getting the boys presents on their birthdays. I should have known that that would lead to other boys asking for gifts, but I didn’t mind. I was happy to go out of my way to buy a present for one or two of the boys who shared a birthday for that month. Soon after that, I started getting pre-birthday gift requests on a daily basis. I remember bringing one of the children a remote control car, soon after, five others wanted the same exact thing.

“You’ll bring me the same toy right?” They would ask.

“Of course,” I would respond. And the trend would continue.

I am not much of a talker, but being with the boys at the orphanage got me to open up more. You can’t be quite around children, because there are a million questions that you’ve got to answer, and a million more commands that you have to give to them.  They were intrigued by my life back in America. They asked how children there acted, and what they did for fun. I let them know that the children in America are spoiled, and they take what they have for granted. 

These children at the orphanage cherished each day they had with me and with each other.  The stood up for one another, I remember when one of the neighborhood boys picked on one of the younger boys at the orphanage, when the older boys got word of what had happened, they sprung into action.  They made sure that the neighborhood kid didn’t lay another finger on one of their brothers ever again. They were a band of brothers who gave everything for one another.  It was fascinating to see how innocent they were.  As an adult, you forget sometimes how fragile young minds really are.  The love you get from a child, especially from twenty children, made me feel that I had touched their lives in a very special way. It is a feeling that I would trade a million dollars to feel every day.

Near the end of my volunteering, I got to know all of the children at the orphanage, not just the boys I was responsible for.  At that point I had gotten to know everybody by their names.  I heard them share their dreams with me, and some even shared their fears.  What was amazing was that none of the children at the orphanage felt hopeless.  They were lucky enough to be in an orphanage that knew how to take good care of them. They were provided with structure and had many educational resources at their disposal.  Their young minds were being developed, because sooner or later they would have to be part of society.  One thing is for sure, the bright eyed souls of Mary Izmilyan orphanage will always greet you with a smile.

After a million questions asked and never enough answers to give, with doubts quickly resolved by smiles and laughter, I somehow learned the art of blessings. It is a lesson that I never expected to receive. With the experience behind me and knowing that one day soon I will start a family of my own, the whirlwind journey I embarked upon opened my mind to an endless love only a child could bring into your life. Whether it be for a season or a lifetime, it was endless love I was blessed to have with the children of Mary Izmilyan  Orphanage.