The Armenian Genocide Museum of Canada began with a powerful act of remembrance and inheritance. Bernard Kradjian, the museum’s founder, was entrusted with a set of family artifacts that would ultimately inspire the creation of this one-of-a-kind institution. Among these items were two objects of profound historical and emotional weight: a hand-carved wooden sewing tool and a photograph of his great-grandmother, Mariam Khachigian Azilazian, and her young daughter, Vartanoush Azilazian. The photo is the last known image of Vartanoush, who was abducted by Ottoman soldiers during the Armenian Genocide and never seen again.

Mariam’s story, like that of so many Armenian women, is one of both profound tragedy and unimaginable resilience. Once the matriarch of a wealthy Armenian household in Sis, the ancient capital of Cilicia, she lived in a lavish villa known throughout the region for its elegant balconies and European architecture. Her life was upended during the Genocide when Turkish forces invaded the city. Mariam bore witness to atrocities that would haunt her for the rest of her life, including the mass burning of Armenian schoolchildren inside a church. As the soldiers locked the doors and set the church ablaze, the children’s final cries of “Asdvadz” (“God”)—and the gunshots that followed as some were hunted down while attempting to escape—were etched permanently into Mariam’s memory.

Following the destruction of her home and the abduction of her daughter, Mariam was deported on a death march toward the concentration camps in Deir ez-Zor. Along the way, her clothing was stolen by Kurdish tribesmen, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. In order to avoid rape—a fate tragically common during the Genocide—she would bury herself in the sand each night to conceal her body. She survived by pretending to be dead beneath piles of corpses, relying on the will to live and sheer resourcefulness. Through all of this, the sewing tool and photograph that are now housed in the museum somehow survived. How these intimate items endured remains unknown, but their presence today is a quiet miracle. They were not just belongings; they were lifelines—proof of a life before the Genocide, and tokens of a family nearly destroyed.

Years later, Mariam resettled in Lebanon, where her sorrow quietly endured. She never again entered a church, and those close to her believed she had abandoned religion entirely—perhaps a reflection of her struggle to reconcile faith with the horror she witnessed as children were burned alive in the church.

These two modest objects—the photo and the sewing tool—would survive long after Mariam’s death, eventually reaching Bernard through his aunt who had preserved them for decades. Their arrival was more than symbolic; it was catalytic. They inspired Bernard to create a space where not only Mariam’s story, but the broader story of the Armenian Genocide, could be seen, felt, and remembered. What began as a personal memorial in a private home has now evolved into the only museum in Canada solely dedicated to commemorating the Armenian Genocide.

Today, the Armenian Genocide Museum of Canada (AGMC) is a registered non-profit organization devoted to historical truth, education, and community engagement. It is now expanding in response to the growing recognition that these stories must be shared and preserved.

This exhibit is dedicated to Mariam Khachigian Azilazian and her daughter Vartanoush, without whom this museum would never have come to be. The photograph and the sewing tool she carried across deserts and through death marches are not just artifacts—they are the seeds of a legacy, a quiet but unshakable proof of survival. They bear witness to the strength of one woman, the innocence of a child lost to atrocity, and, through them both, the endurance of an entire people.