NEWS & VIEWS OF PHILLIPS SINCE 1976
Friday August 18th 2017

Keep citizen journalism alive!

Donatebutton_narrow

Archives

“SEARCHING” Epilog

By Patrick Cebello Hansel

“One person’s found is another person’s lost.” We are taught that this is true, that there always must be winners and losers, that it is part of the way the world is made, that the “invisible hand” directs the fortunes of everyone, and that as one rises, another must fall.

But what if by searching and finding, or even by searching and not finding, we are more connected to our fellow human beings? What if our search, our healing and our wisdom multiplies unto others, so that as one of us is found, we all are?

It is easy to speculate on what will become of Angel and Luz, our beloveds. It is easy to speculate, and hard to know. They have found each other, and they are willing to go to any length to keep that treasure that is their love. But we know that love untested is not real love, and that it is in trial that we often find our true strength.

Luz and Angel will now walk together, and discover together, what their search will show them. Perhaps we will catch up to them a few years down the line: perhaps with babies, perhaps with degrees, most certainly with life’s troubles big and small, and with life’s joys, small and bigger than we can imagine.

But what if by searching and finding, or even by searching and not finding, we are more connected to our fellow human beings? What if our search, our healing and our wisdom multiplies unto others, so that as one of us is found, we all are?

And what of the others we have found along the way? Will Mr. Bussey return to Roosevelt a more curious and courageous teacher? Will Ana use her law degree to free the captives and ruffle the feathers of the powers? Will Angel’s and Luz’ families intertwine in a new weaving that reaches south to Mexico, deep into the past and far into the future? Will the man with the violin—if indeed he is a man—learn new melodies hidden in old, old songs?

It would be foolish of me to try and speculate where Mother Light may shine, and foolish to speculate where evil—be it the scarred cheek, the minions of La Migra, the sneering smile of the cowards who rape and steal and torture—may cast their shadow. It would be foolish to speculate, but it is never foolish to imagine. It is our spirits that lead us to dream, and it is our dreams that lead us to hope.

And so, we do not say “Adios” to those with whom we have walked these thirty-four moons, we do not even say “see you later”. We say, “Vaya con Dios”—“Go with God”—and we imagine and hope and believe that their going, and our going—though difficult and bitter and wounded as it may be—will lead us onward to the spring that bubbled up in the swale so many years ago, that sates the thirst of the desert crossers today, that refreshes all who welcome and all who are welcomed. Laten barnen komma til mig—Let the children come unto me—Dejen que los niños venga a mí.

 

Share this with your friends:
  • email
  • Print
  • PDF
  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Tumblr
  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • del.icio.us
  • Google Bookmarks

Leave a Reply