My neighbor

She asked her husband if he would run to the store for milk.  The dinner was almost ready and she had noticed they were out of milk, which was something she wanted for their three children.  They had no car, only a small motor scooter, so he took off immediately for milk.  He didn’t come back that night. 

He had the milk in his backpack and was on the way home when they stopped him, something everyone feared daily in the land where he lived.  The police took him to the station on suspicion of drug trafficking.  He had only milk, never had anything to do with drugs; he was just a man who had brought his young bride to this town, renown for being safe and a decent place to raise children, several years back.  Then.

Then. the government had been overtaken and hell on earth began in this nice little town and stories like this became commonplace, some much worst.  Venezuela was no longer the same place.  He was finally released.  Before long, his home had been confiscated and his meager savings taken.  Barely able to feed his family, he sought shelter where he hoped for better circumstances for his family.

One night, as he listened to his three children sniffling and an occasional sob, he made up his mind.  This country was his home country, where he grew up and he never had wanted to leave.  But, his children.  His wife.  He woke her up and told her.   He said that he had heard that the Unites States would provide shelter, and help them.  They were neighbors helping their neighbors.  God’s people.  LET’S GO.

They began.  It was hard, so hard.  They had to keep going because there was no place for them if they went back.  Weeks and weeks of hard, hard traveling and they made it to the border.  Telling their story, they were granted entry, given a year to do all they could do to get all their paperwork and then appear in court to make the move final.  There had arrived and so had so many others.  It was overwhelming.

They were herded onto a bus with their few meager belongs and were soon bound for…   a town they had never heard of.  Despite knowing the first weeks would be hard, they were so very hopeful.  They were receiving a small stipend for a short time to carry them until they got settled.  They met a few other families on the bus and formed new friendships.  Excited, they were full of hope and eager to make a home.

They were given a map of the town, temporary locations to stay and advice about some of the local establishments that might be hiring.  Getting the families settled, the men left on foot, two by twos, to go job seeking.  The map showed a shortcut through a midtown. Being more direct to their destination, they walked along neighborhood streets, and pointed out to each other how well kept all the home were and dreamed about one day soon living in one like this.  Could they have a home here?

This was a community of long-time residents, everyone knew each other.  One of the senior women saw them through her window and the buzz began.  She contacted her neighbors and told them she had seen two illegal immigrants casing their neighborhood.  The buzz spread fast and far.  The men didn’t know it but hell of earth was beginning to enter into their new future home.

This story is not totally true.  The basics are as related by an immigration attorney.  The neighborhood buzz actually happened.  Of course, much has been embellished and modified to tie a story together and presented here only as a broader view.  Prejudice is not a part of the Christian faith.  Assuming the worst, attaching the label of illegal without evidence, fearing evil without cause, speaking slander, neighborhood buzz--  these are not part of the teachings of Jesus. 

Mark 12:30-31   Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’