As I see what has become of the Armenian Apostolic Church’s leaders in the face of unjust claims, I can only remember Pope Francis, who was a father to the world, a grandfather to it, who with the rod of common sense, common values could convict the world with love and kindness, goodness, and sweetness of heart. He was a pope of popes, and father of them too, an example of true love, genuine love implemented with vigor. He was a sheep, the furthest thing from a wolf, his innocence prevented wars, so as not to come before his watchful eyes guilty of humanitarian violation and lack of conscience and common sense, for look, upon his death commenced near world war. He is a star in heaven, and I know this in my heart, in my deepest being. Upon his death, we lost the most innocent being on earth, the spiritual grandfather of the world. If he were present today, alive and well, life would be better for it.
He would read this and say with a little smile, “Un poquito,” not in feigned humility, like many others would, but in humorous love and acknowledgement that he is a grandfather to many.