Mamka was born on March 17, 1958 in a tiny, two-road village named Henclova in eastern Slovakia – an unknown place in an unknown land. As any proper villager, she knew the beauty of working in the fields and milking cows but unlike a lot of her neighbours, she also knew the terror of coming home to an unstable home where anger and violence prevailed. Despite her rough upbringing, she quickly learned the art of forgiving quickly and laughing contagiously. The woman had class and style. She was delicate, artsy, cultured, adventurous, and a beloved companion to her friends and colleagues. As a teacher, she understood the importance of investing in the younger generation and as a principal, she was convinced that order and respect were of no small value.
As I look through pictures from our childhood, I can confidently say that mamka did well. From providing us with an infinite amount of hugs to helping us complete our homework, mamka assured us that we were never far too gone from grace – regardless of how much we messed up, she’d take us back. She disciplined us with love, she disagreed with her siblings in love, and she grew with her husband because of love. She knew love had a name and she clinged to Him wherever she went.
In 2002, she left her already-established life behind and began all over again in a new country with a new language and new challenges. She’d go clean toilets by day and study by night and never uttered a complaint – not because she wasn’t outspoken (trust me, she was) but because she understood that in all that she did she was giving glory to God. “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God” (1 Cor 10:31). A few years before her illness, mamka was employed as an educational assistant, working with special-ed kids – she’d often come home with unintentional bite marks and bruises but those were rarely ever the topic of discussion – no, her stories involved lots of laughter and astonishment for her witty students who had yet again outsmarted her because of her English. She loved them a lot, kinda like she loved us. Us – the ones who drove her nuts and often loved too little. And them – the adopted ones who walked through the main door hungry, thirsty and ready to be embraced, accepted, and loved. Those that she could easily talk to and those that she’d pray for words to speak, those that held the same beliefs and those whose beliefs she did not share, those who judged by appearances and those who searched deeper still. All these reclining at the same table, all these being served equally, all these prayed for day in and day out without them ever knowing. Mamka – she was a mother to me and a second mother to many.
“Hi Fae”, I still hear mamka’s sweet voice welcoming me. She always met me so warmly and so gently. She hugged tightly and touched my face every time with so much love. She would then almost already have something prepared for me and those who come into her home: the loveliest soup and the sweetest pastries that she made herself. We would then eat around the table or stand together in the kitchen, talk about Slovakia and its beautiful mountains, her village that we got to visit two years ago, and memories of a life filled with awe for her Creator. Sometimes, I would be treated to stories about how she and Miro met which seemed to always make her blush and giggle. She and her whole family always welcomed me and those who came in through their doors like their own family. I remember middle of last year when Miro, Jergus, Ian and I went with Mamka to the airport on her way to Slovakia. We were there making sure she had all her passport, tickets, bags and everything, not because she can’t fly by herself, but because all she can focus on is seeing her beloved daughter and her beautiful land. I still remember very vividly saying bye to her before she entered the security doors, hoping to see her sooner. That hope will need to wait until I see her in heaven with Jesus. As I prayed about what to share today, I felt that I wanted to speak about how she both lived her life simply and radically. She radiated with beauty inside and outside without the frills and extravagance, she extended her hard-worked hands to everyone she met, and she lived in full dependence on Jesus who loved her so much that He gave His life for her before she even entrusted hers to Him. She asked for prayers eagerly and prayed for others willingly. In the midst of trials, her soul was at peace for Jesus was in the centre of it. I, with all of us here, mourn for she is greatly missed. But we are comforted by the truth that her God and Saviour, whom she has always longed to meet, has already welcomed her into His everlasting arms. I still see her face in my mind, with that sweet smile and caring eyes, now in endless rest and joy. She is not just my good friend’s mom, but a second mom, a friend and a sister. For the privilege of knowing her, I am very humbled and thankful.
– Fae Sanchez
I look at this picture of mamka in her twenties and mamka in her fifties and I know, I know that that young woman had no idea what was coming her way. She could not imagine the hardships she’d encounter, the humility she’d experience, the suffering she’d have to endure, and the joy she would embrace.
When I read Proverbs 31, I see Mamka embodying this woman and I am thankful and honored to be her daughter. But mamka and I both know that it was not out of her own effort that she became the woman described here, but rather, out of the riches of her Savior’s grace, she grew into the beautiful person He desired her to be. She loved because He first loved her and gave himself up for her.
There is an inexhaustible list of things I have learned from mamka, too many to share, but the two I will mention are these:
1. To be unknown by this world is no loss for a woman deeply loved and known by her Creator
2. This life is not pain free so suffer well
Mamka was born into heaven on December 25, 2016. She prepared a meal for her family to enjoy on this side of heaven and then went to be with Jesus for eternity. Not a day goes by that I do not miss my sweet, sweet mother – I, and the rest of us, really, really do. But I would be lying if I said that I am not joyful about her current state – I am. Right now, she is rejoicing in her Maker, Provider, Lover, Sustainer, Saviour, and Healer – and I know that there is nowhere she would rather be. Mamka would often tell me that she cannot imagine what she would do on the day she was faced with Jesus. With eyes wide open, she’d describe her awe of his majesty and holiness and glory and beauty and love and how out of utter joy she wouldn’t know what to do – now, now she knows.