“Do you know what my ministry is? Carla asked.
“I know it has something to do with the border ministry and the issue of people trying to cross the border into this country,” said Al. “I remember seeing a picture of you in the paper a couple of years ago facing down a border guard. He must have outweighed you by a hundred pounds, but you didn’t seem to be giving an inch.”
“There was a picture of that in the papers?” She laughed. “I hope the caption was something like, “Un Tigre taking a bite for libertad.” The chance to laugh seemed to smooth some of the pain lines in her face.
“Facing down officials must really be draining. The law is supposed to protect people, not be part of the problem,” Al said.
“In many ways the law and its officials are good. Many of the border guards are just decent people trying to keep order in society,” Carla said. “It’s just that sometimes you realize there is something greater than the law at stake in these situations.”
“I have trouble imagining the challenges you face,” said Al.
“When I emailed you a couple of weeks ago, I mainly wanted some advice about how to approach Presbytery. I still want to talk about that but a couple of days ago I had an experience that so unnerved me I worry about my ability to keep my composure at the meeting.”
“I have the time,” said Al, “and as both pastor and friend I want you to tell me what happened.”
“Most of these people who try to cross the borders are desperate for a better way of life,” Carla began. “I know what the US laws are, but a major part of my ministry is caring for these people in any way that I can. Usually it’s just a drink of water here, some first aid there. . .” Then she began to tremble just slightly but enough that she had to stop and take a couple of deep breaths.
“What happened a couple of days ago?” Al asked and then waited until she could respond.
“We arrived too late. That’s what happened. A mother along with her infant daughter had just died. She had given her share of water to her teenage son so that he might live. She was desperate for her family to have a chance at a new life and risked everything. She had scraped together $5,000 to pay a coyote to lead them across the desert and the SOB had abandoned them half way across.” Carla bit her lip to keep from crying.
“I’m sorry, Carla,” Al said. “That is horrible.”
“I may not be smart enough to solve the immigration problem in this country, but I am quite certain that my God, who is not restricted by all of these lines that humans have drawn, does not want that to happen to a mother and her children.”
SMcCutchan