What I Miss Most of the Woman Known to Most as Sophie Kapitaniuk

To you she was Sophie. To me she was 'Mamy'. 3 months have now gone by since she has gone to be with Jesus. The pain has lessened (as it should), but I still think of her often. Here are a few things I'll miss of my grandmother.

• Her prayer. Daily she prayed. On Sundays, at church she would pray "Lord bless your servant," as the preacher stood. During the week I would drop by and ask her to pray for specific things. I don't know what will be the consequence of her prayers. I also cannot say what will now be the consequences of the lack of prayer, in our family, in our church and in our city.
• Her excitement. Though she was 75 years-old, she was easily glad when she heard stories of people taking risks for Jesus. She loved missions because she loved Jesus.
• Her listening ear. I know many women (and men) tend to become talkers as they age. They go on tangents and you just have to bear with them. Not so with Mamy. She really listened. She loved to offer advice, but she always listened. I miss being able to talk to her. I miss reading the Bible to her.
  
• Her presence. At the birth of my youngest cousin I cried at the realization that she would never know our grandmother. When, God willing, I have children, I will not be able to show them to Mamy. She loved children, and few things made her happier than holding babies.

3 months have come and gone. I still think of Mamy daily. I'm simply glad that her suffering is over and that she is happy now. Her love was God and to himself has gathered her. She is in heaven because she trusted Jesus as her saviour.

Tribute to a Great Little Woman

With tears and much joyful sadness, I write a tribute to Sophie Kapitaniuk, my 75 year-old grandmother.

After years of battling illness, her heart stopped last night (Friday 7th November) and the doctors were unable to do anything. She has gone to be with Jesus and I know her to be most happy now. 'Mamy', as her grandchildren called her, was a pillar and model to me. Her influence upon my life is incalculable as she was a woman of prayer with strong faith.

75 years-old, she still laughed like a child to express her joy. God and the Bible were her greatest sources of happiness. She was perhaps the most excited of all my family when I dedicated my life to missions as she had been praying that at least one of her eight sons would become a missionary. In my grandparent's view, missions and the pastoral ministry were the two highest callings and Papy and Mamy wished to see the world engulfed in the worship of Jesus.

The Bible was a daily source of comfort and strength. Because her sight was so diminished, she had to be read to. She savoured and meditated upon God's word each day. I often wonder why God would take away the sight of a woman who so loved the Bible, when most of us see and do not treasure His word as we ought.

Her grandchildren were another source of great joy. She always has loved children. Mother of eight, grandmother of 25 (this number is always on the rise), she loved having children around. Her grandchildren sensed this and reciprocated her love. Offerings of drawings, paintings and countless 'bouquets' of flowers adorned her house. Her smile will be a wonderful memory to cherish until I see her again.

By her death, Mamy leaves a void in my life. She was a friend, a prayer-partner, a counsellor and my grandmother. Though short in stature, she is high in my esteem. Her treasure was Jesus, and therefore, in heaven was her heart. She lived out Psalm 71:

"Even when I am old and grey, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come." Psalm 71:18

Though she experienced suffering that would have made most modern men doubt or renounce their faith, she clung to Jesus knowing that He held her tight. Her heart was for the lost and Bill and Sophie were always on the lookout for an opportunity to tell people about the forgiveness found in Jesus. How often I heard Mamy say, "Bill, give them a new testament!" or "Bill, here is a tract to give to that person!" She also told people about what she had experienced with Jesus, but Mamy was the praying strength in the 50 years of my grandfather's ministry of evangelism.

Though dead, her life will continue to speak. Death was gain to her, so her life was well-lived. If there is one thing she would want for each of us, is that we not waste our momentary earthly lives. 'The best is to come,' she told me recently and now that time has come for her.

There is much meaning in the death of young people

My life as I now know is it is only because God has seized me. I've been allowed to know the greatness of Jesus' love on the cross. He died for my sins the death I ought to have died so that I can now live for God.

But God has also used the death of someone else to lead me on the path of life. Through the death a 17 year old I realized that my life was worthless unless lived for God. The first funeral of my life was for a young woman who'd just celebrated her 17th birthday. I was her age and it left me profoundly changed.

Where would I be today if it weren't for the speeding, drunk driver who killed Mikaela on a warm July evening? I'm thankful for the experience of her death, because I shudder to think how I might have wasted my life elsewhere. That I today serve God is by God's grace, that I was able to spend three years on the Doulos is by God's grace that summer evening.

These memories came back to me today because of a conversation I had with Y*, a girl in my class. I was reading a book and she asked if it was the Bible. It wasn't, it's the Confessions of Augustine I replied. This was the start of a conversation that allowed me to discover the hopelessness of my classmate's life. Her mother is a practicing Catholic and she also used to be, she explained. But when she was 17, her best friend was killed in an accident. They were
driving a scooter together and a driver clipped their bike. With a struggle, her friend managed to regain balance, but then hit a post on the side of the road and died on the spot. Y* survived the accident but attempted suicide which caused her to fall into a coma for three weeks. Since then, she knows she'll die when her time has come but doesn't see the need to believe in a God. They were both 17 years old as I was, but our reactions were very different. Y* was turned away from God and I was thrown into his arms.

There is much purpose in the death of our young people. I pray that Y* would see Jesus and choose joy rather than meaningless misery. I don't know who said this, but it is not a tragedy to die. The tragedy is to die and not be ready.