On the drive to meet the immigrates at Case de Immigrantes, my grandmother and family history came to mind. Once upon a time, my grandmother underwent her difficult journey to come to America, bringing with her my dad and his siblings. Today that history was made real for me as I met several people who were seeking refuge. They have been on the road for days, leaving their native Honduras to escape political unrest, violence, and uncertain future. The casa is their resting place.
Found next to railroad tracks, they will soon continue on their journey norte to Estados Unidos, a land of promise for them. In conversing with people especially the youngest of them, one 19 and the other 22, it is heart-breaking to listen so attentively to their struggle and journey for hope.
I’ve been reassured that we are all immigrants, making our journey to our true home: heaven. We must constantly be helpful to those who need us, the gift of our presence and charity. Why? Because Christ the Lord was an immigrant himself with Mary and Joseph.