A team from West Michigan visited Sacred Heart Church, in El Paso, Texas, in May 2023, and saw dozens of guests standing around, many of them with their papers in hand. They were waiting for family and friends to send them money or tickets so they could be reunited with their loved ones. For each one, the journey north had been long and difficult in ways that we Northerners cannot comprehend.
Will, one of the migrants we approached to say hello, had begun his trip several weeks ago from his native country of Venezuela. Waiting at the church without his cell phone— which, for every migrant, is a lifeline to safety and freedom—he was just one of the thousands of people who had crossed the border from Juarez, Mexico, to the United States.
“The cartel in Mexico put a pistol in my chest,” Will told us, sitting under a tree outside the church, “and took my phone and the little money I had.” We asked if he had just crossed the border, and he replied, “No, but I got my papers to travel to South Carolina anytime. I am waiting for my cousin to send me money for my tickets.” When we asked how he had made it so far, he replied, “I am here because my mom is always praying for me. There is a God watching over me.”
Before crossing the border, we learned that Will had been in Juarez for several weeks, penniless and afraid. One day, he had a chance to cross the border to the United States and he took it. “I didn’t understand anything, and I was afraid,” he told us. “If I saw someone, I hid. If I saw a car, I hid myself right away.”
One day, he saw a man who asked, “Where are you heading?”
When I told him, “Sacred Heart Church,” he replied, “Subete! Get in the car!” And this Mexican took me to the church and even gave me some money.
Will then looked at us, trying to make sense of whether it was, in fact, 14 days since he had arrived in the United States. We told him, “Yes, today is May 12!”
It was as though he was awakening from a dream as he said to us, “No way! Today is my birthday! Wow. I have lost all sense of time.”
We congratulated him, and then were saddened by the fact that he was among strangers on a day that he realized was his birthday. Still, he just smiled and proclaimed, “I am 31 years old today!”
He went on to tell us about his journey. He used to buy and sell flour back in Venezuela, but with the financial crisis in his country, he could no longer support his family. “I don’t know how long I am in El Paso. I hope my cousin sends me the tickets soon. I was told by an official at the detention center that I am allowed to stay in the country, but I am not allowed to work while I have asylum status. I am afraid to work while I wait for the money I need to buy tickets.”
He went on to tell us, “I understand that this is a country of law and I don’t want to break the law.”
Sensing what was needed, Cassie, a member of our group, found some candles and plates and, using a loaf of Mexican bread I had bought, presented Will with a “birthday cake” of sorts. Pastor Manuel brought along a Bible as a gift for Will and, right there on the street, we all joined in to sing in Spanish “Happy Birthday.”
After such a long journey, all he could do was smile.
Today, as he waits at the Sacred Heart, Will is looking forward to reuniting with his cousin and family and continuing his courageous adventure. Our group then wondered if it would be possible for us, with the help of our church back home, to raise the few hundred dollars it might take for Will to reunite with his loved ones as soon as possible.
After such a lonely journey, it seemed like the least we could do.