The Best Nest

Dear Señora, 

I sat in your classroom decades ago, yet I am still learning from you. 
Thank you for teaching me Spanish in high school.

My friend Rachel and I are moms...and sometimes our insides get scratchy...like a baby bird tapping to get out of its eggshell. We couldn't sit still in front of the information about the families separated at the Texas border. So through friends of friends of friends, we found the Catholic Respite Center (CRC) in McAllen, TX.

Rachel wrote to them, offering our services as "mama birds" just wanting to help. She asked if we could come help and learn, or if it would be better if we sent the price of our plane ticket as a monetary donation to their cause. They invited us to come.
We worried about draining resources, being in the way, contributing to "volun-tourism." 
They said we could come.

Rachel and I followed Hannah Adair Bonner on Facebook, who was advocating for the migrant families on the other side of Texas. She suggested that migration is a very normal pattern for humans. I began to imagine the shapes and patterns - ovals, ellipses, figure eights - what do migration patterns look like for birds?

My friend Carrie recommended a podcast by Malcolm Gladwell about migration patterns...which made me wonder: if migration is allowed to be cyclical, then can we believe that Latinos want to come to the US, not to steal jobs or rape our sisters, but to work and visit and then return home? Is it possible that migrants do not want to miss the abuela's funeral or the cousin's wedding?

Señora, I do not know.



(this is the padded tortilla holder that keeps them warm)

When I was working the lunch shift on Saturday at the CRC in McAllen, filling water cups, my eyes brimming on the regular, a young boy - maybe he was ten years old - tapped me on the shoulder, grinning. I couldn't figure out what he was pointing to until we walked to the door together. He pointed up to the corner, outside, where there was a speaker mounted, covered in a bird's nest. 
A bird family had made its home there.



Leaves and straw wrapped around the speaker, clinging. The mama bird's wings were flapping and you could see movement in the nest.



How did that little boy see the nest?
What did that nest mean to him in the corner of the scary outside hot world, and the fumbling efforts of the volunteers inside the building?

What nest had he fled?
What nest would he build?
When pushed to spread his wings, would he fly? Was he ready?



I grinned at him. He grinned at me. No words. Only depth of understanding.

I never saw him again, Señora. But I'm still learning from him.

Con cariño,
Mollie




***A list of items to send to the Catholic Respite Center coming soon. They need a bigger facility and are currently accepting donations towards the building so they can serve more people in need:

http://sacredheartchurch-mcallen.org/immigrant-assistance/donate-now/




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