Reflections by Ani Khatchadourian

It's day 9, can't believe time is flying by so fast. I was not sure what to expect of Hayastan , the only visual I could compare it to were the many pictures I have seen in documents, books, etc. We are currently walking at night to one of the many hang out spots in Yerevan to watch the World Cup final - go Spain!

Of all the beautiful monasteries that we have seen, going to Echmiadzin today was a culminating moment of this pilgrimage so far. During the service I reminisced of my life when I was a little girl, going to church every Sunday and seeing my father, Der Arshag Khatchadourian on the altar. I would think about my faith and along with that came a distant dream of going to Hayastan. That notion I held when I was a child swept over me during Badarak, and it hit me, like a ton of bricks, that the Armenian church molded me into the believer that I am today, and that no one in this world could come in between me and my faith. When the choir sang " Soorp Soorp" tears came into my eyes, I looked to my left and saw Karekin II, I looked around and saw the faithful, and I looked up to the dome and said "This is a part of me".