Victoria Daniel Hatty Joseph

The Eulogy of 

February 15, 1989

Victoria Daniel Elias El-Hitti was born in St. John’s, New Brunswick, Canada in the year 1896, we believe. Her mother was returning to Lebanon having been denied entrance into the United States. While on the return trip, my great grandmother went into labor and my paternal grandmother was born. As legend has it, she was named after the Queen of England who was idolized by the nurse who helped deliver her and by the Canadian people in general.

Sito spent her childhood in the tiny village of Knaywer, Lebanon. Through an arranged marriage, she was wed to Doumit Yousssef Antoun El-Safi on September 4, 1911. She was 15 years old. Sometime soon after that, the newlyweds moved to America where they began to scratch out a living settling in Wheeling, West Virginia. This morning, we gather to celebrate the legacy of this incredible woman.

She bore 9 children, 8 sons and 1 daughter. One son, the original Joe, died six months after childbirth in 1918. I am one of her 33 grandchildren and to date, Sito has 44 great grandchildren.

I am struck by the fact that looking through our sadness this morning, this cannot be called a tragedy. Sito was not robbed of longevity. She died on her 93rd birthday. I think we’d all sign up for that. Rather than allow sorrow to overcome us this morning, I want us to join in a celebration of life. Her past and her new life.

There are countless Sito stories. I would like to share just a few. I used to think she had asbestos hands. She could reach into a 450 degree oven and turn a piece of baking bread or grab a boiling pot off a stove with her bare hands. I am sure I would have scorched my flesh had I attempted such a feat.

Every Sunday, when she would mix the raw kibbee and she would roll it up into a little ball for us to try, she would always ask in her broken English “Miss anything”? I swear I could taste the old country on her fingers and in her hands.

I have a loving memory of her standing in the doorway of my father’s house and blessing the cars as we pulled away. Her rhythmic sign of the cross would always make you feel more protected than any St Christopher medal would.

Above all, she was a prayerful person. She would say her rosary, everyday. She would walk around our house blessing the statues and when you passed a church while she was riding in the car, she would make the sign of the cross, every time.

Now, I want to share with you a poem that describes the journey that Sito is taking this morning. I want you to envision her as the traveler in this poem. It is entitled 

“The Traveler” by James Dillet Freeman.

SHE HAS PUT ON INVISIBILITY, DEAR LORD, I CANNOT SEE.

BUT THIS I KNOW, ALTHOUGH THE ROAD ASCENDS AND PASSES FROM MY SIGHT, THERE WILL BE NO NIGHT.

THAT YOU WILL TAKE HER GENTLY BY THE HAND AND LEAD HER ON ALONG THE ROAD OF LIFE THAT NEVER ENDS.

AND SHE WILL FIND THAT IT’S NOT DEATH, BUT DAWN.

I DO NOT DOUBT THAT YOU ARE THERE, AS HERE,

AND YOU WILL HOLD HER DEAR.

OUR LIFE DOES NOT BEGIN WITH BIRTH.

IT IS NOT OF THIS EARTH.

AND THIS THAT WE CALL ‘DEATH’ IS NO MORE

THAN THE OPENING AND CLOSING OF A DOOR

AND IN YOUR HOUSE, DEAR LORD, HOW MANY ROOMS MUST BE 

BEYOND THIS ONE WHERE WE REST MOMENTLY.

DEAR LORD, WE THANK YOU FOR THE FAITH THAT FREES,

THE LOVE THAT KNOWS IT CANNOT LOSE ITS OWN,

THE LOVE, THAT LOOKING THROUGH THE SHADOWS SEE

THAT YOU, AND SHE, AND I ARE EVER ONE 

In keeping with this tone, I would like to share these prayerful thoughts with you.

God, our Father, we feel your presence here – the warmth of your love – and we feel a sense of closeness to Sito. 

Perhaps we are closer to her at this moment than we have been in years…maybe ever.

The fact that Sito has passed beyond our physical sight doesn’t mean we cannot hold her…embrace her…or speak to her.

Sometimes, we are sad because we haven’t always said the thing our hearts were trying to express.

We don’t always say ‘I love you’ even though we feel it – or – ‘I’m grateful’ even though we have much to be grateful for.

But now, in the silence of our own minds, we speak these words:

Sito – we love you. We know your life on earth was just like ours –

not always easy - not always perfect – but it doesn’t matter now.

We love you and we care for you.

But it is not the caring of sadness – it is a caring of love.

We can let go of you. We can release you easily now because we know a greater love takes over.

Sito, we have forgiven you for the mistakes that you may have made, just as we know that you forgive us, each one of us, and in that forgiveness there is peace.

You are at peace…and so are we.

And Sito, as you begin your journey with God, please know that the faith from your family is bright light shining at your feet as you walk that new path.

Right where you are at this moment – God is.

We will think of you often, but never with sadness again

God, our Father, we give thanks that you will bring peace to the hearts and minds of Tom, Sam, Joe, Eddie, George, Don, Vivian and all of Sito’s family and friends, so that what we experience here this morning will be a releasing – a letting go –

a farewell – but not a sad one.

We love you, Sito – God be with you.

And when you’re in heaven, as we know you are, and you’re speaking to the angels and the saints and all your old friends and family…

when they ask you about your life on earth…

you tell ‘em Sito baby…

you tell ‘em how much we love you.

Text: Jack Boland & Wayne  Joseph.