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13
On Board for America
Story of an Armenian Girl (Part twelve)
by Serpouhi Tavoukdjian
My father had come to the boat with me when I left Salonika
for Pirĉus. I will never forget his last words, for I have not
seen him since. "Serpouhi," he said, "we may
never meet again in this world, for you are going a long, long
distance from you homeland. But remember that we have another
home, a better land than this, where there will be no more tears
and heartaches, and sad partings. Shall we not meet there in
heaven and the New Jerusalem?" His tears fell fast. I too
was sad to leave my dear father.
But now here in Pirĉus there was no one to tell good-by, for
I was quite alone. Also I was anxious to get aboard the ship
which would take me to America. It was to sail at six o'clock in
the evening, and about four I started, so that I would surely be
in time. It was anchored far away from the shore, and I had to
go out in a small boat. So I engaged a man to row me and my two
large suitcases across the water. I was so happy and excited to
be at last really starting for America, after waiting and hoping
and praying so long.
We came to the steamer, and I climbed up the stairs at its
side to the deck. An officer stood there and he asked to see my
papers. But when he looked at them, he shook his head and said
that I could not go to America until I had another vise from the
American consul in Athens. You can imagine my disappointment.
I said, "But I am all ready. I must go to America."
He said, "You cannot go until you have the vise."
Then he told me to hurry to Athens and see the consul, and maybe
I could get back in time, "for," he said, "the
ship does not sail for an hour."
I almost fell down the steps in my haste to get back into the
little boat. The man hurried to row me to shore. We were hardly
at the dock when I jumped out and left my baggage in the boat,
saying, "Just wait; I will come back soon," and rushed
to the railroad station. Fortunately it was not far, and a train
was standing there ready to start for Athens. I climbed aboard.
Pirĉus is only about twenty minutes' distance from Athens by
train, so we were soon there. I was on the platform before the
engine stopped, and ran through the station and down the
streets, asking people, "Where is the American consul?
Where is the American consul?" I also asked for the street
where the consulate was, for the officer on the boat had told me
that.
Some one said, "Go this way." And when I was there,
another said, "Go that way." And I was soon at the
consulate, but was so out of breath I could hardly speak.
I knocked at the door as loudly as I could, and also pushed
the bell. I though the doorkeeper would never come. But finally
he opened the big door just a little way. I tried to push by
him, saying, "I must see the consul."
He said, "It is too late. Come again tomorrow."
I said, "I have to see him right away. I am starting to
America in an hour. I cannot come tomorrow."
Finally I talked so hard that he said, "I will go and
ask his secretary."
Then he came back and said, "All right, you can go
in."
I think it was the secretary and not the consul who sat
behind the big desk in the office. At least, he was not an
American, I know.
He said very crossly, "Well, what do you want?"
I said, "I want some writing on this paper, please, and
could I have it quickly? I am leaving for America in an
hour."
He scowled ad said, "This should have been one a week
ago. What do you mean coming here like this."
I was so afraid he was not going to give me the vise. I began
to pray in my heart Then I said, "I did not know. The man
in Pirĉus told me the papers were all right. How do I know
about such things? I have done exactly what I was told to do.
Now please, I must start to America today. The boat is waiting
till I get your writing."
He scowled again and said, "It will cost you $20."
"All right," I answered, "but would you just
hurry, please?"
He made the vise, and I gave him $20 in American money, and
ran out of the door and up the street. I was so glad! But when I
was running up the street, I did not feel quite so good. I was
thinking about the $20. "It was too much," I said to
myself. "I will go back again and see that man."
Once more I ran at the consulate. The doorkeeper did not want
to let me in. But I said, "This is very important-something
I have forgotten. I must see the man," and he opened the
door.
When I came into the office of the consul, the man who was
sitting there looked up surprised and stood by his chair and
said, "What do you want now?"
I answered, "You asked for $20 for giving me a vise.
That is too much. I am an orphan. I am going to America to
school, and I have nobody to pay my way. I have only a little
money. I will not ask you to give all the $20 back, but I do ask
you to give me $10. You may have half, and I will have
half."
A queer look came to his face, and his hand went toward his
pocket. All that time I was praying. Then he took out a $10
bill, and gave it to me. "All right," he said,
"here it is." Then I was happy once more.
Quickly I hurried to the station. Just as I came, a train for
Pirĉus pulled to a stop. I got aboard and it started that
minute. I wished the train would fly!
Back once more in Pirĉus, I rushed to the dock. But first I
looked out to the bay. Yes, the ship-it's name was the "Verone"-was
still there. I thanked God in my heart. And the man was still
sitting in the little boat with my baggage. He might easily have
stolen it. I jumped in before he could help me, and sat down in
his seat and took the oars and began to row and row.
"Here," he said, "I will do that."
"Oh," I cried, "let me help you. Then we can
go faster. I am afraid the ship will sail without me."
But he would not let me help.
When we came again to the steps at the side of the ship, the
whistle was blowing, and the ship was just ready to start. I
climbed up with my suitcases. The officer-the same one that had
sent me for the vise in such a hurry-was standing there and he
was smiling. He looked at my papers again and said, "All
right! Now you can go to America." And I smiled too.
Then I found my cabin the ship. And I went right in and knelt
down by my bed and thanked my heavenly Father because He was so
good, for I know He held the boat there so I could come to
America.
For eight days the weather way very pleasant. I met many
lovely people on the boat, and made a number of very true
friends. Some of them still write to me. But as we came into the
Atlantic Ocean, there was a bad storm. Even the officers thought
the boat was going to sink, and the passengers were very much
frightened. We all gathered in the lounge room, and some of them
were counting beads and others were praying to pictures of Mary
and the saints that they might be saved. I was sitting with
them, but I prayed to God in heaven. I asked Him, since He had
spared my life through all my terrible sufferings in Arabia and
Turkey, please not to let me die so near America, where I had
wanted to go so long. I promised Him if He would keep me safe, I
would serve Him to the end of my life in any way He might
direct. In a few hours the storm cleared, and we reached New
York safely.
Of course, there were no relatives to meet me there, and so,
when the Travelers' Aid Society came aboard the steamer to see
if there was anybody they could help. I was very glad, for I did
not know just what to do. They took me through Ellis Island,
where every immigrant coming into this country must give a good
account of himself if he is allowed to enter. I was coming to
school, so it was all right. These Travelers' Aid friends also
saw that I got across the city of New York, from the dock to the
railroad station, and there they bought my ticket for
Washington, D. C. On the train I was with a German and his wife
with whom I had become acquainted on the boat. They were also
traveling to Washington. When I arrived there, the relative who
had first suggested that I come to the United States me and took
me to his home. I was very happy to be in America.
Almost at once I went to work in a brush factory in Takoma
Park, and continued to work there while I studied. During the
years spent in Washington Missionary College, it was my
privilege to live for some of the time in the dormitory, and
thus be associated closely with young men and women who were my
classmates and friends. Of course, I had to work very hard, and
even then I could not have met all my needs had not kind friends
helped me very much, not only with clothes and other gifts, but
with money.
When I had completed the required school work, I decided to
go to the sanitarium at Orlando, Florida, to take my nurses'
course. These years of training were very happy years, for was I
not doing that which I had longed to do since I was a very
little girl? They were hard years too, for the studies were not
easy for me, and I did not always catch clearly the English
meaning of lectures and textbook assignments. But I worked just
as hard as I could, and prayed that God would help me to pass
the tests and become proficient in my chosen profession.
It was almost graduation time, and all the class were looking
forward to their dreaded State Board examinations. Still, every
one of us wished to be recorded as a registered nurse, and so in
another way we were anxious to take them.
Then came to me a great disappointment. I learned that jut
after I had entered training, the educational requirements for
entrance had been changed. Therefore State authorities had
refused me permission to take the State Board tests.
For a time I was discouraged. But after thinking and praying
about it for several weeks, I went to our superintendent, Miss
Kate Macey, and told her, "Now I write and speak both
Armenian and Turkish, and I speak Arabian. Also I feel that my
experiences have brought to me more in general education than
the actual credits I have received in school before I came in
training."
"Yes," she said, "I am sure that is true. How
would it do for me to write to the authorities of the State, and
tell them that and ask them if there is not some way in which
you can take the examinations and become a registered
nurse?"
I heartily agreed to this, and she said she would write the
letter that day.
When night came, I fell asleep and dreamed I was walking down
the hall toward the superintendent's office, when she suddenly
opened the door and came toward me smiling, and told me it was
all right and I could take the State Board.
The next morning when I met her, I said, "O miss Macey,
I am going to the examinations."
She looked surprised and said, "Do not be too sure, Miss
Tavoukdjian. I have written, but you know I have no word yet in
return.
"Yes, but I know," I said, "and I got up early
and have already studied my anatomy book this morning."
Then I told her my dream.
Some time passed, and the camp meeting came to Orlando. I was
very busy substituting for this one and that one, as we all
tried to attend as many meetings as possible. Therefore I had
very little time for study. But I always carried a book under my
arm, and whenever I had a few moments vacant, I studied. They
all smiled when I would explain that I was studying for the
State Board. And Miss Macey always said, "Do not be too
sure, Miss Tavoukdjian. You know I have no word yet."
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