The Near East Relief Orphanage was in an old church with a back yard full of tents. A tall stone wall surrounded the entire compound. Inside the main entrance, there was a large room crowded with refugees. Lines snaked their way to tables set up at the back.
A tall man carrying a clipboard approached Rosmerta. “Name,” he said flatly.
“Rosmerta Bedrosian. You won’t find me on your list. I don’t want a handout. I’m here for a job.”
“You work here? I don’t recognize you.”
“No, I mean I want to work here. I don’t have a job yet.”
“Employment. That would be Mr. Lincoln. He’s not here today. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“What does she want?” asked a plump blonde woman entering the orphanage behind Rosmerta.
“Good morning, Mrs. Lincoln. She wants a job. I told her she’ll have to come back tomorrow when Mr. Lincoln is here.”
“Yes, Mr. Shultz. Thank you.”
Mr. Shultz stiffened, nodded, spun on his heels and walked away.
The woman turned to Rosmerta. “And your name is?”
“Rosmerta Bedrosian.”
“Rosmerta,” Mrs. Lincoln repeated. “What a beautiful name for such a lovely young lady. Come with me, Rosmerta.” Mrs. Lincoln led her through an open courtyard, down a narrow hallway, and into a small office. There was a desk covered with papers and rows of file cabinets along the walls. Mrs. Lincoln sat in a high-backed swivel chair behind the desk and indicated for Rosmerta to sit in the smaller chair in front of it. “What kind of work were you looking for, Miss Bedrosian?”
Rosmerta thought quickly. “I can do anything. Cooking, cleaning… I can make clothes and care for children. I can teach if needed. Oh, and I speak French,” she added as an afterthought.
“French? That’s very helpful. Do you speak any English?”
“No,” said Rosmerta, feeling dejected.
“That’s okay, we need French instructors. To think you might be able to teach English as well… it was expecting too much, but I had to ask. When can you begin?”
“Anytime,” said Rosmerta eagerly.
“And where are you living?”
“I’m… ah…”
“We have accommodations here, of course. Room and board will come out of your salary. I think you’ll find it convenient. Yeva needs a roommate. Come, I’ll show you the way.” They walked through the orphanage to a small wooden building at the back of the compound.
Mrs. Lincoln opened the door to reveal a narrow room with a cot along each wall and a small trunk at the far end. She opened the trunk and pulled out a blanket and a pillow, which she handed to Rosmerta. “The empty cot will be yours. Use the day to explore our facility and get to know where things are. You’ll start work tomorrow. The kitchen is right next door. You can get something to eat there if you’re hungry. You might even meet your roommate. Yeva works in the kitchen. Oh, and get yourself a change of clothes. There is a room full of donated items next to the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you like.”
Mrs. Lincoln left. Rosmerta set her bedding down and took a seat on her cot. The room was dark and smelled of smoke. It wasn’t a place you wanted to spend a lot of time, but it didn’t sound as if she would have much free time anyway. She went out to look for food. Just outside her room, Rosmerta saw fresh-baked loaves of bread cooling on a shelf outside the kitchen door. To her right was the main part of the orphanage through which she had just walked, and to her left was the outer wall of the compound. Rosmerta went to examine it. She found a spot where there were scuff marks on the wall. Just above the marks, the top of the wall was damaged—possibly from a tree branch resting on it. This must have been where Boghos climbed in. The tree had been cut down. She wondered how long ago that happened. Had Boghos been unable to break in? What had he been doing for food? How had he survived?
Rosmerta saw several small jasmine plants protruding out from under the wall. She plucked a few sprigs, wrapped them up so the flowers clumped together and stuck them in her hair. Then she went to find some food and clean clothes.
After a long day of exploring her new home, Rosmerta returned to her room. It was late when Yeva finally arrived. Rosmerta had fallen asleep but was startled awake when her roommate entered.
Yeva walked in carrying a lit candle.
“Oh, that’s much better,” said Rosmerta.
Yeva just stared at her and sat on her cot.
“Hi, I’m Rosmerta.”
“Hi.”
“You must be Yeva?”
“Yeah.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.” Yeva blew out the candle and slid it under the bed.
Yeva left early every morning to make breakfast for the orphans and she didn’t get back until long after dinner was served. Sometimes, Rosmerta tried to engage her in conversation, but Yeva merely grunted at what she seemed to think were appropriate intervals. Eventually, Rosmerta gave up trying to befriend her.
Rosmerta had many responsibilities. In addition to teaching French classes throughout the day, she helped the children with their calisthenics in the morning, joined them for all their meals, and made sure that everyone settled down at night.
The first night she helped to put the children to bed, a little girl was crying. “What’s the matter?” Rosmerta asked as she sat on the edge of her cot.
The girl sat up and wrapped her arms around Rosmerta.
“What is your name, sweetie?”
No response. The girl was a little older than Anaguel had been, but she was much smaller. She held Rosmerta and sobbed.
“Mina,” the girl in the next cot offered. “Her name is Mina.”
“Mina,” said Rosmerta, “what a beautiful name. Would you like to play a game?”
Mina looked up at Rosmerta and nodded. Her tears had stopped.
“Good. I’ll say a word, and you say something that rhymes with it, okay?
Mina seemed to be apprehensive, but her attention was on Rosmerta.
“Okay,” Rosmerta looked into Mina’s eyes and pointed to her chin. “Chin,” she said, then pointed to Mina’s chin. “Chin,” she repeated.
Mina said nothing.
“Chin,” Rosmerta said again. “What rhymes with chin?”
“Sin,” Mina said, almost inaudibly.
“Yes.” Rosmerta pointed to her ear. “Ear,” she said.
“Fear,” Mina responded.
“Excellent.”
Mina smiled, wrapping her arms around Rosmerta.
“That’s better,” said Rosmerta. “Now it’s time to get some sleep. Can you do that for me?”
Mina hugged Rosmerta even tighter, burying her head in her chest.
“It’s okay, dear. I’ll be back in the morning, and we can have breakfast together. Would you like that?”
Mina nodded. She didn’t ease her grip.
“Okay, you get some sleep now,” Rosmerta insisted as she gently eased the girl on to her back and tucked her in. “Goodnight.”
After that, Mina and Rosmerta were almost inseparable. The girl followed her everywhere, holding hands when they walked and clinging to Rosmerta when they were standing still. Every night, they played a game before bed. Every morning when Rosmerta entered the dorm, Mina ran up to her and gave her a big hug.
Mina came from Adana. Her trip to Aleppo had been relatively short and mostly by rail. Her father went to fight in the war. Disease had taken her mother. She ended up in the orphanage. She didn’t know where her older sister was, only saying, “She didn’t come to the orphanage with me.”
Mina leaned into Rosmerta. “You don’t smell,” she said.
“I don’t smell?” Rosmerta laughed. “Do I usually smell bad?”
“No, you used to smell good.”
“The jasmine? The flowers I wore in my hair. That must be the smell you remember.”
“I like that smell. It makes me think of you.”
Rosmerta made a mental note to pick some jasmine flowers when they bloomed again.
When she returned to her room, she was surprised to find Yeva in a giddy mood. She couldn’t stop smiling as she paced the room.
“What?” asked Rosmerta. “What is it? Did you meet a boy?”
“No, I’m going home.”
“Home? How can that be?”
“Well, not home, but somewhere. Sister Margaret wants to see me.”
Rosmerta’s eyes widened. She had heard that whenever Sister Margaret wanted to see someone, it meant someone from the outside is looking for you and you may get to leave. She had never actually met the elusive nun.
“And go where?”
“Wherever the person looking for you is. I wonder who it is. I bet it’s my mother. I knew she’d make it.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“At the camp in Sivas.”
“We passed through Sivas, too,” said Rosmerta. That’s where I was raped the first time, she didn’t add. “What happened?”
“My mother was sick. They took her away to the hospital section. Or that’s what they told us. Then they said we had to move out. I told them I couldn’t go, that I had to get my mother. They wouldn’t listen. They forced us to leave. But now she’s recovered and she is asking for me. Isn’t it great?”
Yeva’s eyes were pleading as if it was up to Rosmerta to make it true. Rosmerta was searching for the right response when Yeva said, “Will you come with me?”
“Go with you? You don’t even know where you’re going.”
“Yes, I do. Sister Margaret’s office is in the back of the church.”
“Of course,” Rosmerta laughed at her own foolishness. “I’d like to meet this Sister Margaret.”