Blessings & Burritos

burritos

The anxious young mother from Guatemala asks me for the third time how long I think it will take to get to New York. By bus. From El Paso.

Depende.”

I’ve tried to explain. Depends on a lot of things.

She asks how many hours. I tell her it’ll be two days. Her facial expression pleads for a different answer.

In reality I think it’ll be three. But I don’t tell her that.

She and her adorable 6-year-old daughter Alison will be spending tonight in the Greyhound station. Their relative back in NY bought tickets for a bus leaving at 4 a.m. Getting them a ride to the station at 2:30 a.m. would be impossible. Our volunteer drivers are great, but everyone has their limits. The best we can do is get them to the station tonight.

And pack them sufficient food and liquids for the long journey. That’s my job. And I take it seriously.

Used to be that the migrants and refugees who came to our center could access cash from Moneygrams wired by relatives in other states. At least that’d give them a little money to buy food on these long bus rides.

But not anymore. The local Moneygram has changed its policy. They now want a “legit” ID. Like a driver’s license.

We all know that’s not possible. Which means we often send our people off with nothing more than an extra set of clothing and a small bag of food. And blessings for the journey.

Vaya con Dios,” I say. “Bendiciones para su viaje.”

Que Dios te bendiga,” they respond. God bless you. Like I’m the one that should be getting the blessings.

Alison and her mom aren’t unusual. In fact, another mother and her two children are leaving tomorrow by bus. For North Carolina.

So, when I search through the donations of tote bags, I try to find two sturdy ones to hold enough food for these moms and their kids.

Pickings are slim tonight. Only a few large bags left that could possibly hold everything I want to pack. But I know we’ll soon have more donations. We always do.

I pull some “care packages”—each filled with peanut butter crackers, granola bars, chips, a bottle of water, and juice box. All the snacks, and even the Ziploc bags, donated by local residents.

Then off to the kitchen with the walk-in fridge. I grab apples, burritos, fried chicken, anything I can stuff into the tote bags to sustain five people for a 3-day journey.

Every Monday a local restaurant delivers grocery bags filled with dozens of homemade bean burritos. Wrapped in sturdy foil and ready to go. Another vendor donates apples and oranges. Who knows where the fried chicken came from? Sometimes it’s pizza I find on the shelves. Or baloney sandwiches.

All this food – donated. Anything and everything we need. Just when I notice something starting to get low, next day – or soon thereafter – the supply is replenished.

It’s kind of like the loaves and fishes story. Only it’s not Jesus sending down the blessing. It’s folks like you and me. Blessing the snacks, the clothing, the toys, the toothpaste – everything they donate – with their attitude. Their generosity. Their grace.

Later that night, I think about Alison and her mom. They’re headed to the bus station right about now. I think about the food I packed for them.

I worry it’s not enough.

become-the-blessing

Then I remember the burritos. The commitment of that restaurant owner. The endless supply offered.

And I send out a prayer. May these families meet others on their journey. Others who will be that kind of blessing.

Advertisements

About Pauline

I've been a freelance writer and editor for many years and I'm seeking to follow my heart in this stage of my journey, as the major roles in my life as wife and mother have changed. Not sure where this will lead, but I'm taking one step at a time as I listen within.

Posted on September 8, 2016, in inspirational, Living from the heart and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Thank you, Pauline.

    From great distances we proclaim and speculate (and demonize and scapegoat) in our very uncivil political discourse. But what is called for is really much simpler – and much more demanding: to make burritos and wrap them carefully in foil for strangers whom we will never meet. Why? Because they are sons and daughters of the same God, and they are hungry, and that is the task in front of us that we are called to do.

    Love,
    Rob

    Liked by 1 person

  2. As always, beautiful words combined to tell the stories of people who have so little and need so much. Thank you, Pauline, for giving your heart to this mission.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: