Migrants, Immigrants and Thankfulness

In September I saw exiled Venezuelan boys exchange worthless bolívares (devalued currency from their country) for cents of Colombian pesos in Manizales, Caldas. The boys gathered at corners with stop lights. When these turned red, they  walked up to the cars and offered the paper bills in exchange for coins. They were young, vulnerable and brown. Their future, uncertain.

Last week, as a friend drove me to the archeological site of Tetzcotzinco near Texcoco, Mexico, I saw an Afro-Honduran boy asking for money near a busy intersection of a road along the migrant caravans' route. It was cold and he only wore a worn out sweater, a hat, and jeans.

Years ago I saw Haitian boys walking through Amazonian cities in Brazil such as Porto Velho, Rondônia, and Rio Branco, Acre, after an earthquake provoked a humanitarian crisis in their homeland. They hoped to trek by land to the United States.

Today I celebrate Thanksgiving in the state of New York with an Irish family. Some of them are immigrants from Ireland. Some are Irish-American. The newest member of the family is a lovely Irish-American girl named Saoirse, which means Liberty in Gaelic.

I give thanks for them and I hope that those boys from Venezuela, Honduras, Haiti and elsewhere may soon feel as welcome somewhere as Saoirse is among her loving family. 

We can always find ways to help. Let us be thankful by looking for them.


Let us not let them die for their trials to end

Comments

Popular Posts