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 76Plough Quarterly • Winter 2015 43 I never tire of seeing the children come into our space. At first they are wary. They have come straight from Border Patrol, and we may be the first smiling faces they have seen for days. But when they see the toys and other children having a good time, they start to forget them- selves. Soon they are right in there with the rest, racing cars or coloring pictures of princesses. Best of all, when the mothers see their children relaxed and smiling, they start smiling too. I have been here for several months. The constant stream of new faces, child after child, keeps me stretched between heartbreak and inspiration. Shortly before coming here, I read a quote from Dostoyevsky: “You must know that there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome and good for life in the future than some good memory, especially a memory of childhood. . . . For if a man has only one good memory left in his heart, even that may keep him from evil. . . . And if he carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe for the end of his days.” These words guide me as I try to give these children some good memories to take with them as they go out from our Child Friendly Space into an uncertain future. Kerstin Keiderling has worked in McAllen, Texas since July 2014 with Save the Children, an inter­ national ­ humanitarian organization promoting the welfare of children. www.savethechildren.org Language seems to be hardly a barrier here; somehow the message gets through. This past summer, after reading countless articles on the border crisis and ­ watching footage of mothers and chil- dren clinging to trains and buses, risking their lives to enter the United States, my church wanted to do something to respond. My friend Amy and I volunteered with Save the Children, a non- profit organization that goes into disaster zones all over the world to help families and chil- dren recover. Their signature child protection program, Child Friendly Spaces, allows children who have experienced a traumatic event to play and be kids again. Here in McAllen, Save the Children has set up a Child Friendly Space in the corner of the Sacred Heart recreation center where children can play while they wait for the buses that will take them to relatives farther north. I spend my days looking after the children who come to play. Some days there’s only one child, some days there are fifty. Some stay the whole day, others for only half an hour. Each child brings a story, and their stories are often also the stories of their parents and grandpar- ents. One afternoon a nine-year-old with whom I was making bracelets told me that she and her father were going to Houston to meet her mother. I asked her when she had last seen her mother. Nine years ago, she told me. She’d lived with her grandmother her whole life. I asked if she was excited. She wasn’t sure. As I hugged her goodbye later that day, I could only wish her good luck and pray that this country would be kind to her. Courtesy of Save the Children