With the recent headline about Pope Benedict's (or really the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith's) teaching on the Church, I thought about writing on that, but I wanted to talk about an experience I had while on vacation in Mexico last week (hence why there was no blog entry last week) while it was still fresh in my mind. I promise I will address the recent statement about the Church next week, which will also give me time to do a bit more research! This story comes with pictures though as an added bonus!

The friend with whom I was traveling knows a young man, who I am going to call "Abraham" (not his real name, of course, but I will call him after thefounding father of the Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition who was himself a migrant) in his early 30s who is among the undocumented here from Mexico. "Abraham" works for a hotel in the laundry service in the States. We decided to go and visit his family in Mexico. One of the consequences of the fact that "Abraham" is undocumented is that he has not seen his family in seven years, since he obviously can't return to Mexico to visit on holidays and family occasions. He is from a small "rancho" that we reached by driving on very hilly dirt roads for a good 20-30 minutes (with the help of a local from the nearest city whom we hired to come along with us and give directions; it turned out that the rancho we were looking at is basically made up of one extended family, and he knew of the family and where they lived).

We arrived at a collection of maybe 20 houses (though I use that term rather loosely by our standards), stopping every so often to ask the way to "Abraham's" mother's house. When we arrived, she was a bit leery of who these strangers were, but when we explained who we were and the connection with her son, tears immediately filled her eyes. She was completely overwhelmed to meet someone who had seen the son she had not seen in seven years only days before. She introduced us to "Abraham's" sister-in-law and proudly showed us pictures of his brother's wedding that had taken place last April, but which "Abraham" of course could not attend. She also introduced us to "Abraham's" grandmother who lived across the road. We went to visit the chapel, which was nicer than any of the homes we saw. She was extremely proud of that chapel, though they only celebrate mass there once every one to two months when the priest is able to get out to their rancho.

We then met "Abraham's" aunts, uncle, and cousins. His sister-in-law went to fetch "Abraham's" brother and bring him home from work so that he too could meet us. They brought out wooden benches, and we all sat in the cool shadow of the church while we talked. His cousin told us that her husband, and the father of her four year old daughter, was in Alabama. She had not seen him in two years. They told us they had all been wondering who we were as we drove into the village, asking one another about the car driving through with the "white girl" in it (that was me!). We were the first Americans that had ever been to their village. They went to get a bottle of Coke, which they apparently bought to serve us (though I am not sure where they bought it, as there did not seem to be any type of store anywhere - perhaps from a neighbor?). We speculated later on about their incredible hospitality in desiring to serve us when they clearly had so little themselves. They wanted us to stay for lunch as well, but we refused, saying we needed to be moving on before that.

They took us around the village, including up to the top of a hill that held a brick and cement cistern to gather water, which was then piped down to spigots in the yards (no running water in the houses) of the individual homes. They proudly explained that that cistern contained the water that served the entire village. They showed us the one room school where "Abraham" had been educated until he was old enough to work, after which time he worked during the week and attended school in town on Saturdays. We then returned to "Abraham's" home, where they explained that they had built their new home with money that "Abraham" had sent them from the U.S. This is the house in which "Abraham" grew up:

This is the picture of the house they have since built with the money "Abraham" has sent:


Still not much by our standards, with two rooms, and no glass on the windows, but clearly a vast improvement to their previous home. Furthermore, "Abraham's" brother introduced us to "Abraham's" animals, the animals that have been bought with the money he has sent home: goats, pigs, and cows.

They also showed us a full grown mango tree that "Abraham" had planted before he left. We took pictures of all of them and the village and "Abraham's" home to take back to him. They said he would not even know the children under seven, but they would explain to him who was who when they spoke with him on the phone. He does call home periodically, but since they have no phone in their village, he calls someone in the neighboring village. His mother then has to be sent for so that she can come and talk to him on the phone. While we did not meet his father, my friend told me that "Abraham" has been sending money home recently so that his father can buy a truck - his first ever, having only ever had a donkey previously. They were a wonderful family who all gave us hugs as we said goodbye. The little girls picked some of the orange flowers I had admired off a tree and gave them too me. The hardest part of the morning for me was the emotion that filled the face of a mother who had not seen her son in seven years and her incredible gratitude (and his whole family's joy) at having been able to have some contact with some small portion of his life in the States. When we consider the issue of immigration in our country and ponder the teachings of our Church, it helps to have a human face on the issue and to see first hand both the struggles involved for the families of the undocumented, but also the reason they take the risks they take. I share this story and these pictures with you so that we can all ask ourselves, if we were in their situation, what would we do? "Abraham's" family has been able to vastly improve their lives by the mere fact of his making minimum wage at a hotel laundry in the United States. For many of these families immigration (legal or otherwise) isn't a choice, it is a matter of survival.