Krista

During my visit to Ecuador in 2006, I met a young lady who was on her way to the Dominican Republic to labor in the Gospel.  Her name was Krista Slawinski, and she was from Alberta, Canada.  At that time, she didn't have much Spanish yet, so I was asked to translate for her in the two meetings she would have a part in at the Special Meetings in Quito.  Before each of those meetings, we found a quiet spot to sit, and she would tell me a few of the things she intended to share in the meeting so I would be prepared with vocabulary and such.  I was impressed by her quiet and sweet spirit.  It struck me that she was only a few years older than I, and it was amazing to me that she was already on her way to a foreign country to labor. However, I didn't doubt her dedication to her calling.  Despite facing a future filled with unknowns, she was filled with a quiet peace and joy.

I have a few funny memories of that translation experience.  The workers sat up on a little stage in the meeting room.  Before the first meeting in which I was to translate for Krista, it was suggested that I sit up on stage with the workers.  I wasn't a worker, and the thought pretty much horrified me!  However, all you can really do is agree, so I did.  I sat up on the stage next to Krista.  Right before the meeting started, she leaned over and whispered to me, "There's only one microphone, so I'll stand to the side, and you can stand in front of the mic."  Again, I was completely horrified.  She was the worker, the one with the message.  I was just the lowly translator.  But again, the only thing I could do was agree.  When she got up to speak, I followed her.  She stood to the side of the microphone, and I took my place in front of it.  Before we got started, LeRoy L., the overseer of Ecuador, came over with one of the testimony mics. Long story a little shorter - Krista used the regular microphone, and LeRoy held the testimony mic for me the entire time!  There was also one word that Krista used several times that I didn't know and couldn't seem to keep in my head.  Each time she would say it, I would look over at LeRoy and he would help me out.  To this day, I still remember that word very well.  It was quite an experience!

After I returned home from Ecuador, I thought off and on about writing to Krista.  However, I didn't have an address for her in the Dominican Republic, nor did I have a workers' list from Alberta.  As time went by, I would think of her now and again and be reminded of her sweet spirit and think about how much I was influenced by her and it during our brief time together.  I put her name on my list of people to write.  More time went by, and it got to the point where I thought, "It's probably silly to write anyway.  I'm sure she wouldn't remember me."  Still, I kept her name on the list.  This year, I saw her name on a speaking list for Blackwater, Missouri convention and thought, "We're so close in miles.  I'd love to see her again.  Maybe it will work out one of these days.  Who knows where our paths might cross again?"  I heard that she told everyone at that convention, "Read your Bible.  It's a gold mine."

Three days ago, Alice and I were sitting around the supper table with a couple of our friends, and the lady of the home asked if we had heard about the bus accident in the Dominican Republic.  No, we hadn't heard.  "There was a sister worker killed," she said.  "She was from Canada."  She went and got her computer that contained the e-mail message about the accident as I sat and tried to think about who it could have been.  She came back to the table, found the message and said, "Her name was Krista Slawinski."  "No," I thought.  "Not Krista."  I could see her face in my mind, and she was so alive.

Since then, more details have come through e-mail.  Krista was riding a 28-passenger express bus from Bani to Santo Domingo.  It was raining, and the bus stopped about 5 km from Santo Domingo.  While they were stopped, a cement truck rear ended the bus.  The truck and the bus both slid down an embankment.  Krista was sitting in the second to last row and was the last to be rescued.  She was taken to the hospital, but her injuries were too severe for them to be able to help her.

Krista is gone from us.  Our paths will never cross again here.  I will never get to write her a letter.  However, her gentle spirit and influence will linger on in the hearts of many, including my own.  "She gave her heart and soul to this land's people - to all people, to us!" wrote one of her fellow-laborers in the Dominican Republic.  I can picture that!

This is the only picture I have of Krista from our time in Ecuador.  She is on the far right.