A child’s laughter floats down the hallway of a once
unoccupied wing of a Catholic health care facility in El
Paso, Texas. Only yesterday this 5-year-old boy clung to his
mother’s leg, eyes downcast, unable to respond to my request
for his name. Many of the children arrive here at the
Loretto-Nazareth Hospitality Site fearful, timid, silent. We
often don’t know what they’ve experienced on the journey, or
in the holding cell where they’re placed after crossing the
border. We’re instructed not to ask questions. But sometimes
the mothers share their stories.
Although the intensity with which migrant mothers and
children flooded the United States over the summer of 2014
has died down, families seeking asylum continue to present
themselves at the U.S.-Mexico border. At the Loretto-Nazareth
Hospitality Site (where I volunteered for nearly five months)
the mostly Catholic El Paso community has been responding
quietly with compassion, overwhelming generosity and a
genuine awareness of meeting Christ in the stranger.
In addition to hundreds of lay volunteers, most of whom are
members of El Paso’s 55 parishes, religious sisters from
numerous congregations have traveled here to give weeks, even
months, of their time to this humanitarian effort – the
result of a nationwide call for help through the Leadership
Conference of Women Religious.
Sponsored by both the Sisters of Loretto and the Daughters of
Charity, the shelter was opened in June 2014, like many other
temporary sites, to assist in handling the influx of migrants
passing through El Paso after being processed by Immigration
and Customs Enforcement (ICE). But unlike the others that
have long since closed, this short-term shelter remains open
as ICE continues to deliver migrants to its doors. And both
the need and the community’s commitment show no signs of
lessening.
“The majority of cases we’re seeing at Nazareth are asylum
seekers,” said Carmen Estrada-Smith, a young volunteer who’s
made a yearlong commitment to serve in El Paso. “People have
been presenting themselves to Border Patrol at the bridges,
saying they are afraid to return home. These people are put
into a very distinct pool in a very specific immigration
process, and that distinguishes them from those who are
simply coming for work.”
At Loretto-Nazareth they receive a hot meal, a shower and a
simple room with cots for one or two nights. Completely
staffed, stocked and managed by volunteers, the shelter
operates through donations of everything from daily meals to
office supplies, from hygiene essentials to shoes and
clothing. Volunteers wash linens, clean bathrooms, sort
donated clothing and transport the families to bus stations
or the airport to reunite with their designated relatives
while they await their assigned court date. It’s during these
car rides that people often share their stories.
“One of the initial questions I get is, ‘Can you trust the
police in the U.S.?'” said Estrada-Smith, who provides rides
to the bus terminal. Many come from exceedingly violent
places like El Salvador, Guatemala, and the Mexican state of
Michoacan. “They talk about drug cartel members coming to
their door and threatening, ‘If you don’t give us your money,
or if you don’t give us your land, this is what will happen
to members of your family,’ as they point a gun to the
person’s head,” Estrada-Smith said. “People are coming to us
extremely traumatized.”
But how does one find so many volunteers and donations to
fully support such a place nearly a year and a half later?
Enter Eina Holder, an organizer and volunteer from St. Pius X
Parish. When Holder agreed to be director of
Loretto-Nazareth, she immediately needed to provide food for
the families. She first appealed to the ministry council at
her church. Right off they agreed to bring dinners for two
months. Then she reached out to another parish, and
eventually she made the rounds, getting monthlong commitments
from various Catholic churches to provide nightly dinners.
Parishioners of St. Francis Xavier Cabrini Church recently
made their third monthlong commitment to serve dinners. They
bring not only food, but their instruments and voices to
entertain guests.
“Pope Francis talks of serving the migrants and refugees in
Syria, but we have them right here,” said parishioner Nora
Cuvelier. “These are people who are fleeing violent
situations. I see them as human beings who need help.”
“We have to go serve the outside world, not just stay in the
church,” said fellow parishioner Laura Rojo as she scooped
rice onto paper plates. “It’s what Jesus came here to do –
not to be served but to serve others.”
Organizing all these volunteers, while managing the numerous
details and departments to keep everything running smoothly
takes special qualifications. With her accounting and
business background and extensive network, Holder certainly
meets the criteria. But she gives 60 to 70 percent of her
time to this project, in addition to holding a part-time job
and serving other ministries in the community. “Holder is a
remarkable woman in how she juggles so many things and
organizes everything and does it gracefully,” said Sister of
Charity Bernadette “Bernie” Helfert. “She’s got the fire in
her to do what needs to be done.”
Sister Bernie and Sister Kay Franchett are among the many
women religious, most in their 70s, who come to serve. One
sister celebrated her 80th birthday cleaning rooms and
scrubbing showers. Some have been transformed by the
experience, like Sister of St. Francis Mary Beth Goldsmith of
Dubuque, Iowa, who answered a call to “leave my comfort zone”
and learn more about immigration. While serving three months
at Loretto-Nazareth, she realized God was calling her to a
new ministry and is now in language school in Honduras.
Nationwide support
Donations have poured in from many dioceses, religious
organizations and parishes as far away as Ohio, Minnesota and
Massachusetts. Joy Martinez, CEO and administrator of the
Nazareth Living Care Center, the facility that houses the
wing used for the hospitality center, said they had no idea
when they agreed to do this how they would support it. But
she said even her staff at the Living Care Center, who don’t
make high salaries, raised enough money among themselves to
buy Pedialyte and baby bottles for the children.
“One of the things we remind ourselves is, when there’s a
need, God is going to provide,” Martinez said. “There was
never a doubt we would help; it was more a matter of faith
that we would be given what we needed.”
And indeed they have. Supply rooms are filled with cleaning
products, toiletries, toilet paper and shampoos, diapers and
second-hand clothing. Most people arrive with little more
than the clothes on their backs, so during the winter months
when many were heading to colder climates, Holder put out a
call for sweaters and coats. One man donated dozens of new
winter jackets.
“I wouldn’t say I’m surprised by the people’s response, but
I’m heartened by their generosity and faith. It’s a tribute
to the people of El Paso that they continue to make this
hospitality center work,” said Sister of Loretto Mary “Buffy”
Boesen, who oversees the site.
With no end in sight to the violence in their homeland,
migrants are expected to continue to seek asylum. And Sister
Buffy said the Sisters of Loretto have an open-ended
commitment to this cause. “We are called to serve, and when
you have your neighbors living through these days of violence
in Latin America, part of our mission is to give them aid. If
that means shelter, then that is our call, especially to
these women and children.”
Holder also plans to serve this ministry as long as she can.
“You have a mission the minute you’re baptized,” she said.
“So if I was attracted to the immigrants, it was because of
my faith. God gives all of us something special to do in this
world. Nothing can compare with the joy of accomplishing
God’s will for your life.”
Thousands who have walked through the doors of
Loretto-Nazareth – volunteers and migrants alike – have
experienced the effects of that faith “grounded in the
mission of Loretto and the Gospel message,” Martinez said.
“We always have to think to ourselves, if this was Jesus at
our doorstep, of course we would say ‘come in.'”
Hovey is a freelance writer from Greene County, Va. Since
returning from El Paso, she is following a call to go on a
mission trip to Bolivia.
