By Rose Quilter, RSCJ

Here we are sisters in laughter and tears,In famine and feast.We witness ten year old Jacob rising from death,His wet black curls glistening after his first shower in days,Wearing clean clothes,Ready to continue his long flightTo a new strange place called Kentucky,Where he will arrive tonight,With his papa, Vicente, and his hermanito, Isaac,Whose name means laughter. His sore throat reminds him ofThe jail where they were stripped of jacketsAnd slept on the cold floor, dreamingOf Honduras. They awoke, shivering, but willing to walkOne more day. In Kentucky, with mama, there will beLaughter and tears.

We are all sisters to Alma,As we greet the group now entering thecavernous space of Sacred Heart,The parish where all are welcome.The refugees look startled as we applaud their arrival.Alma has welcomed 17,000 parents with children inLess than a year. “My Boss always gives me peace,But he never leaves me in peace.” She smiles and orients us: “Please  greet our guests,Gather information; offer them breakfast."Meanwhile, choose new clothes that will fit, that they like.Then, take them outdoors to the showers provided by Baptists(A liturgy of abundant water, fragrant with soap and shampoo.)Afterwards, they will be united with families, far or near.

Here, we are all sisters, feasting at Cathy’s Alamo jubilee.50 years of Mercy, a fiesta for God’s large humble family.So we dance with abandon From Texas to Mexico to Iowa to New York to California to Spain,And even, (My God!) to Washington D.C.!

We are each Josefina rocking Marta’s three-month-old baby. We are all befriending Solovino, abused and frightened,But daring to eat like a golden dog with a home.Jesus, you cried out with the psalmist in your crucifixion:“I am a worm, not a human being!”Here, held close in your hands, we are blessedly human,Sisters, arising and walking, learning  the nobility of the lost,Who think “I am nobody,” as we discover, together,We are equal,Someone. Beloved.      

Rose Marie Quilter, RSCJ

Border Witness, ARISE, Alamo, Texas, Spring 2015