We are reprinting here a memoriam offered at the time of +Barbara’s repose by Ginger Jerosh. As Ginger notes, Barbara was truly a pillar of our community, who bore her illness with grace before the Lord, and who we miss dearly.
There are many different roles our parishioners fulfill in order for St. Andrew’s Church to function as a living parish. Some preach, some teach, some clean, others plan. We have some who sing or beautify our surroundings in other ways. Without the multiplicity of talents that each person offers, we wouldn’t be able to grow and thrive as a living organism.
Our sister in Christ, Barbara Ondris, played a unique role in her own special way. She had a creative sense of beauty, a head full of ideas to enrich the church, a desire to make a positive difference. One could not be in her presence and be unaffected by her energy and verve – it was infectious. And it didn’t end with ideas and plans. Barbara would roll up her sleeves and put these ideas to work. By nature, she was a “doer” – not afraid to get her hands dirty and not afraid of responsibility.
Born in Manhattan in 1936, the only child of Tillie and Zachary Sapko, she was raised in the neighborhood called “Yorkville,” on the Upper East Side. Educated in the public school system, including Julia Richman H.S., she was a real City girl, comfortable with all the Big Apple offers.
The Sokol Hall – one block from her home – was a community center that offered a gymnastic program that became an important part of her life. As a young girl, Barbara performed with them regularly. As an adult, she continued to teach gymnastics and participate in the social aspects of this organization. Many of her life-long friendships came from her involvement with Sokol.
Rudy, her husband of 50 years, was raised in the same neighborhood, living within a few blocks of each other. After his tour of duty with the Navy, they married and continued to reside in Manhattan until 1965 when they and their two children, Nancy and Jeffrey, moved to Kings Park.
Barbara had a number of jobs. The first was at Time-Life in their photography department. After moving to Long Island, she was a bookkeeper for a major auto parts distributor and for a neighborhood business, Kings Park Plumbing.
It was an amazing feat; this woman was able to work her 8 hours, take care of her home, watch over and care for her elderly mother, and at the same time revitalize the sisterhood at St. Andrew’s Church. All this in addition to choir participation, decorating the church for feast days, and keeping the community room stocked with supplies. As the president of Sts. Martha and Mary Sisterhood, she would come up with ideas and plans that made our heads spin. She swept us off our feet with enthusiasm.
But it was her illness that slowed her to a standstill and sapped all that wonderful energy from her. For almost five years she struggled to understand and adjust to her new role. Always “fighting the good fight,” she underwent many tests, procedures and consultations. Trying various forms of treatment and medications, she finally came to the end in her husband’s arms on the feast of St. Nicholas, December 6, 2008.
So, we can say Barbara did partake of that Light of Christ and, in turn, did not hide it under a bushel. She shared it with all of us and brightened our community. We grew from her efforts and serve her memory by continuing her good work. She not only leaves behind her devoted husband, two children, and three grandchildren – Brianna, Kirsten, and Luca – but all of us at St. Andrew’s who were blessed to know her.
In Barbara’s memory, her husband Rudy, her family, and friends, have donated memorial funds, towards the final icon in our church’s iconography program. This icon depicts an important feast: notably one of only three nativities (births) which the Church celebrates: those of the Mother of God (Sept. 8); St. John the Baptist (June 24); and of course that of Christ Himself (Dec. 25).
St. John the Baptist, the Forerunner of Our Lord is considered the last of the Old Testament figures, and his prominence in the life of Christ is understood to represent the fulfillment of all of Old Testament history in the light of Christ Himself. The hymnography of this feast focuses on the physical ailment of Elizabeth: she was barren and unable to conceive a child. But through the mystery of God’s love and mercy, this ailment was transfigured, and nature was renewed, and from this, St. John the Baptist was born. Of this, Fr. Robert Arida says: “The feast of the Baptist’s birth affirms the victory of regenerated and transfigured life. New life emerging from the barrenness of sin and death is the joyous core of our feast. Here is the beginning and end of the Church’s mission to and for the world.”
Truly this also speaks of Barbara herself, who in faith transformed her illness as well, bearing its burden with beauty and grace before the Lord, inspiring and strengthening the faith of many. May her memory be eternal!