In Armenian tradition, a child is often named after a grandparent. The name carries a memory forward. Embroidering it onto something is a way of making that promise material.

Every Armenian household had a grandmother who could cross-stitch. The skill used to be like knowing how to make bread -- invisible, unremarkable, everywhere. It isn't anymore.

Both are old crafts, chosen for different reasons. Here's what each one is good for — and why the everyday name bib and the heritage cross-stitched pieces are made by different methods on purpose.

The largest Armenian community in the United States lives in a stretch of suburban Los Angeles between the 5 and the 134. Here's how that happened, and why a workshop in Buena Park is part of it.

Mesrop Mashtots designed the alphabet in 405 AD. Sixteen centuries later, those same first three letters — Ա Բ Գ — are still the first ones Armenian children learn.

Most people use the two words interchangeably. They're not the same thing — and the difference is why Lusik's blanket has to be made by hand.

There's a reason every Armenian rug, plate, and manuscript seems to have one. The pomegranate is the country's visual shorthand — and it's woven into Lusik's blankets too.