Mr. Guroian's story about the eucharist shared by the wandering Armenian villagers and their priest during the genocide was breath-taking for me. They had no bread and wine, so dirt (and water, I presume) had to be used instead. A bit of dirt blessed and eaten by fleeing refugees who are longing for justice, peace and a return to home. That is a story that I myself will re-tell to others many times over.
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