Through the Intercessions of Elder Ephraim of Arizona

Three years ago today the world lost a holy father, Elder Ephraim of Arizona. However, in as much as he “completed the race” and was found worthy to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, we gained a saint! Now we have him as our heavenly intercessor, but even during his earthly life his prayers could move mountains! For instance. . .

Many are the stories that tell of the Lord’s marvelous works enacted through the prayers and intercessions of the saints. Our family’s own story of Geronda Ephraim’s miraculous, much-needed help is just one of countless examples of the inability for saints of God to be limited by time or space. Indeed, those who dwell in Christ hearken to the desperate pleas of those entreating them, even halfway around the world. 

My husband, brother, sister-in-law and I were living in Thessaloniki at the time. We had been there for a few years studying theology. One year, we made plans to go home to Canada for summer vacation. My brother took on the responsibility of booking the least expensive airplane tickets available. For this reason, each couple flew on separate flights to Athens but planned to meet at the airport as we were able to get tickets on the same flight to Montreal. 

My husband and I arrived in Athens first. We proceeded to the counter to check into our flight. The lady at the counter noticed our Canadian passports and began enthusiastically asking us what brought us to Greece, what we were studying, and why we chose to study theology in an Orthodox country. “Are there no theological schools in Canada?” she asked, wide-eyed. Astonished that we would choose to learn Modern Greek and study Orthodox theology at a Greek university, she completed the task of printing our airline tickets likely with a little less attention to detail than she would normal exhibit. While she handed us the tickets and our passports we thanked her for her service and said goodbye.

As we were walking away, I looked down at my airline ticket for the first time. To my shock I did not see my legal name—the name that appears on my passport, my married name. Instead, staring up at me in bold capital letters was my maiden name, PENNEY. This, a name I had changed nearly six years prior and in which I had no identification to bear witness to the fact that I and the person whose ticket I held were one in the same. Everyone knows airlines do not let you travel if the name on your ticket does not match the name on your passport. Needless to say I began to panic.

Meeting up with my brother and sister-in-law, I showed them the ticket. My brother’s eyes grew large and he said, “When I booked the tickets maybe I put it in your maiden name by mistake!” Looking at my husband he said, “And I even had you double-check all the information to make sure it was correct! I guess we both missed it!” That additional piece of information did little calm my nerves.  

We debated whether we should return to the counter to discuss our unexpected dilemma with the nice lady who issued us the ticket (and who had herself not noticed the discrepancy) or to take a leap of faith and see if we could navigate through all the upcoming checkpoints without being detected. We decided on the latter. 

Proceeding toward the European passport control booth, we noticed, just by happenstance, the booth was empty. 

Not even looking around to see if someone was watching, I rushed through undetected. Just as my husband and I got on the other side the man returned to check my brother and sister-in-law’s passports and tickets. As we proceeded toward our gate we were asked two or three more times by various officials to show our tickets and passports; each time they only asked for one or the other, never both. By the time we arrived at the gate we knew our hitherto easy passage may be coming to an end, for here at the sixth and final check-point, I was going to have to show both my ticket and my passport simultaneously. And so, we came up with a plan to deal with the inevitability that I was about to get caught trying to board a plane with a ticket that did not match the name on my passport.       

If there was any way for us to make it through the final check-point we knew we needed the prayers of Geronda Ephraim. Every time we encountered an impossible situation in our family we had the habit of calling on him to strengthen our pleas before God and to find a solution to our problems. We knew without a doubt he could hear our prayers, even while halfway across the world in Arizona.

And so, we employed the phrase we had heard from a friend of ours years prior and often used for comedic effect, “We better jam on the prayer rope!” Each rolling our prayer ropes off our wrists, the four of us agreed to say, “Through the prayer of Geronda Ephraim, Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me.” Remembering he was carrying a photograph of Geronda Ephraim (with Saint Joseph the Hesychast’s image on the back) my brother handed me the picture to tuck into my passport for good measure.

We decided on the order each of us would take to proceed to the counter to show our tickets and passports. We figured my brother should go first, with my maiden name, then my sister-in-law, again with the same last name, I, with the confusion of two different names (whereupon I would doubtlessly get caught!) and finally, my husband with our married name. Then, when we heard the dreaded, albeit inevitable, phrase, “You cannot board this plane with a ticket that is not in your name!” we would make our best effort to convince the airline worker there had been a huge, but hopefully forgivable, mistake.  

Hearing the call to board we exchanged nervous glances and tried to pretend everything was normal. As we had agreed, my brother went first. He handed the attendant his ticket and passport. She looked at the ticket and looked at the passport. She looked at the passport and looked at him. Tearing off the ticket stub, with a nod of her head she indicated he was to proceed. Next, was my sister-in-law, following the same pattern, with a nod the attendant indicated she too could proceed. Here it was my turn. I took a deep breath, all the while internally praying with a panicked voice for Geronda Ephraim and Saint Joseph to help. I handed the attendant my ticket and passport. She looked at the ticket and tore the stub off. Just as she was about to look at my passport she dropped all the stubs she had been holding. Only after bending down and collecting them all did she look at my passport and look at me. She handed me my ticket and my passport. With a nod she indicated I could proceed. 

Incidentally, in the confusion of collecting all the stubs and only afterwards looking at my passport she had not noticed that the name on my ticket and the name on my passport were not the same. I tried my best to contain to a grin the huge smile beginning to spread across my face. Thanking her I proceeded down the ramp, with my husband following soon after. With muted whisperings of “Glory to God” and discretely crossing ourselves (for we did not want the airline attendants to grow suspicious at seeing us rejoicing) we all gave thanks to God for working a miracle for us through the prayers of Blessed Geronda Ephraim.

Father John and I venerating Geronda Ephraim’s tomb.

Truly, the saints are eager to intercede for us! May we always be found worthy of the prayers of such a holy man!