From the fall of 1983, until she retired in 1989, Sophronia was my office partner, colleague, and mentor. Our friendship continued until her death last week. Her sense of humor was legendary, and as one of her "old testament" friends, she always sent me just the right rabbi or Yiddish joke.
There are so many things I loved in Sophronia, her wit, her intelligence, her belief that boys and girls, regardless of background, ethnicity, or gender could learn well if properly taught. But what I most loved about her was the fact that she never found herself in a room of strangers, only people she hadn't met yet. Walking into a room full of unfamiliar faces Sophronia would, within minutes, know everyone's name, where they were from, and what they did for a living. On my first day in Tacoma she walked me through all eight floors of the building introducing me to each person. True, she did introduce me as Irene Mazer's replacement, and I probably held that title for the next five years, but at least she made sure that I had met everyone, and everyone knew who I was. It seemed as though she knew everyone in Tacoma, and Seattle and she probably did.
Sophronia taught me many things. One that I will never forget was the power of sarcasm. As we co-trained in TESA, Teacher Expectations and Student Learning, she taught me that in every word of sarcasm there is some truth, and that truth hurts. I have tried since then to be very careful about using sarcasm. But she also taught me to be aware of how I was sitting in a skirt!
Sophronia's energy was boundless. She would work an eight-hour day for Tacoma Schools, and then go home to develop curriculum for the church diocese, or the national Orthodox Church, cook for a hundred people at the camp, or paint icons. I am not sure that Sophronia ever knew what it was to sit still.
Don and I were thrilled to be invited to the Feasts of Saint Anthony as long as they were held. We both loved the food, and being taken around and introduced to the guests who would come from near and far. There was always room for my children as well, and I can remember our son Joshua developing a deep friendship with one of their friends. Josh looked forward to coming back each year to see his friend.
That she adored Father Anthony, her children, Irene, and Charlie, her son-in-law Father Stephen, and her grandchildren, Sophronia and Elizabeth was obvious. She took great pride in all of their accomplishments. But she allowed us to become part of that extended family too. My introduction to the Orthodox Church came at Father Stephen's investiture, and then extended to Irene and Father Stephen's wedding.
Somethings, in spite of Sophronia's best intentions, I just never got right. Sophronia's recipe for Galaktoboureko looked easy enough but hers was always so beautiful, and mine well let's just say it wasn't as easy to make as she generally insisted.
After Sophronia and Father Anthony moved to Gig Harbor, I took the job at Central Kisap, and we eventually moved to Seattle, we didn't see each other very often, but I always knew that my friend was there. I last saw her in December at Jim Laurent's annual old Research and Evaluation department get together. We all noted that we were getting older, and some parts of our bodies weren't working so well any more. She and Father Anthony had just come back from Spokane, and were a little tired, but otherwise things seemed to be OK. I figured, another year, a few more e-mailed jokes, and then the 2008 party. Sophronia, I will miss you.
With love
Linda Elman
