Tuesday 9:15 am

Dear Family and Friends,

We are about and hour and a half into a two and a half hour trip to the country side to visit with the sisters of the Pequeña Comunidad—a group of sisters who have walked with the poor and persecuted communities before, during, and after the war.  This is our first bathroom break ... And with two stalls and 100 people looks like this will be a chance to rest as well ... Walk ... Stretch ... Blog!

I was a bit exhausted after yesterday's events ... So there are a few things to share ...

After returning to the UCA (the most prestigious university in Central America) we went to a lecture on the root causes of immigration.  We heard the stories of two young men who traveled to the US where they lived as undocumented until certain events occurred that lead them to deportation. 

The one in particular struck my heart strings. He left El Salvador because as a young man he was being targeted by the gangs that have become rampant throughout the country.  He essentially left to save his life. He worked as a mechanic in the states which was good for work but unfortunately was pulled over while testing the cars and was sent to a detention center after being unable to produce documentation. 

No matter what side of the immigration issue you stand we cannot turn our backs on these issues ... We all want  immigrants to come "legally" but then this is where we must work urgently and diligently to create just and appropriate immigration legislation. Until then I cannot justify turning people away who are fleeing for their life.

As we left the lecture there was the loudest group of birds chirping from the surrounding trees ... I feel as though the birds had been following me throughout this day to teach me something profound about relationship.  Below I share a poem inspired by the birds!

Con amor,

Sarita

The birds know no boundaries

It must be freeing

To be a bird

To know no borders

Worrying not of fences and walls

They have no papers

And no one notices

Moving with the wind

If they wish ...

Or not

It must be freeing to be a bird

To not be detained

Nor sent away

The purple Martin comes

The purple Martin goes

We rejoice in her presence

We ask no questions

A little girl looks up

Hearing the caw of the crow

She thinks:

It must be freeing to be a bird