Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 7642 Plough Quarterly • Winter 2015 “We tried to sleep in the desert but we couldn’t because there were too many animals. They came right up to me and they had big eyes and I could see that they were lions.” Lia and Cynthia, both nine-year-olds from El Salvador, stare at me from across the table, wide-eyed as they remember the night they spent with their mothers hiding from US Border Patrol. “There were many noises. I could tell that most of the animals were lions because of the noise they were making.” Lia can’t get that night out of her mind, but Cynthia comes to the rescue: “We once went to the zoo in the city. I saw many lions there.” I latch on to that. “Really? What else did you see there?” Thankfully that’s all it takes. They’re off, talking about happier times when they didn’t have to worry about gangs coming into their school, forcing them to hand over their lunch money and threatening that their mothers would be murdered if they told anyone. Nor were these empty threats. Earlier this week I sat mute as a six-year-old described how a man in her village was killed with a machete, demonstrating the slash marks from her forehead to her chin on both sides of her face. He was left to die on the street near the school so when school let out the children had to pass him. These girls are among thousands of families and unaccompanied minors who have made their way from their homes, mostly in El Salva- dor, Honduras, and Guatemala, to this country in search of safety. At first I wondered if the situations they are going into – crowded living conditions, minimum wage jobs, city schools in a foreign language – are any better than what they’re leaving. But after hearing just a few of their stories I realized the depth of the horror they’re fleeing. As the numbers of immigrants streaming into the United States grew in the beginning of June, Catholic Charities in McAllen, Texas, decided to do something for the hundreds of families they saw dropped off by Border Patrol at the local bus station. They opened an assis- tance center three blocks from the bus station with tables loaded with donated clothing. They set up showers and, together with the Salva- tion Army, provided food. Because many of the arriving parents had had little or no sleep for days, the city of McAllen donated tents so fami- lies could sleep. The local organizers welcome volunteers from all over the country who come to help out. Coordinating the resources of multiple charities with waves of volunteers coming for short stints is a tough assignment, but the teamwork I’ve seen here over the last few months is impressive. Families have driven from as far away as Penn- sylvania with a truck full of donations, ready to do anything to help, even to look foolish with their halting attempts at Spanish. Churches have come on mission trips and the Salvation Army rotates teams once a week. Everyone comes with the goal of welcoming these families into our country, and the enthusiasm is infectious. LetterfromtheTexas-MexicoBorder Giving the Gift of Good Memories K E R S T I N K E I D E R L I N G Courtesy of Save the Children Save the Children’s “Child Friendly Space” in McAllen, Texas