What shall Marash Girl write about on this last day of the year? As she was walking across the bridge to the market this morning, she was thinking about her grandmother, Yepros, her grandmother, orphaned during the 1895 massacres, a little girl when she witnessed the murder of both parents in Marash, Ottoman Empire at the sworded hands of the Ottoman Turks, suddenly a little orphan girl holding her littler sister Mary Kurtgusian close to her, hiding in the closet where her parents told her to hide, where they told her to remain in silence no matter what she heard. She hid and held her little sister. How much she cried, Marash Girl will never know; perhaps it was what Yepros witnessed that caused her blindness those many years later, once she had reached the safety of the New World . . . that caused her to hold her silence no matter what she experienced in the years that followed . . .