Between Saturdays, she does laundry and cleaning for a wealthy family whose head of household is a university administrator. She has been helping to raise their daughters since the youngest was but an infant. Maria left behind her own infant daughter in the care of her parents and sisters two decades ago. She had no choice but to come north to feed the four hungry mouths depending on her at home on the family ranch. Although she has endured humiliation and suffering, she rarely speaks of it; nor does she mention her journey in the desert.
But now her employers are through with her. They know each other well, like family, and find each other’s habits annoying. They resent the decent wages they must pay her. Her hours are cut, then her days. Now the aging woman is back to barely getting by. There are no promotions in this line of work, no seniority and no pensions to be had. Only tired bones and a spirit weary with effort remain after so much toil.
But her daughters are raised now, and they are mothers themselves. Each has a U.S.-born child. Their family immigration status is mixed. Under one roof live Maria’s mother—a permanent resident, an undocumented daughter, a U.S. citizen grandson, her youngest daughter—a so-called dreamer with deferred action, a U.S. citizen granddaughter, and Maria—still undocumented and “waiting in line” for her visa to become available. If it does become available (which is unlikely at the current rate), she still will be unable to regularize her legal situation unless she can prove to the government that her absence would cause “extreme hardship” to her legal family members. Although her absence would cause them extreme hardship, their circumstances would not qualify as such in the eyes of USCIS, and she would likely be barred from the country for at least 10 years.
So she continues to toil, weekday after weekday, trying to keep a low profile, with no hope for legalization under current law. But on Saturdays she teaches children about the gratuitous outpouring of God’s self-giving love made flesh first in the Incarnation, then in the Crucifixion, and now in the Eucharist. And on Sundays she shares the Bread of Life with others exiled, like her, to a lifetime of struggle.
NICOLE BERNAL RUIZ was the program director and accredited immigration legal representative of the Hispanic Affairs Project at the time of this publication. For over five years, she collaborated with local leaders to work on issues affecting immigrant families.
Reprinted with permission under “fair use” under U.S. copyright law in the Spring 2016 edition of C21 Resources, "The Treasure of Hispanic Catholicism".
Photo Credit: Therese Wesby, Unsplash.com