
I must confess that my forays into Spanish and Mexican culture and arts are far from broad—mostly peripheral and eclectic at best—but over the years I’ve appreciated and enjoyed what I have encountered. I grew up in Arizona, where Mexican culture and food were a regular part of Phoenix life. Then I had a prof in college who spent I-don’t-how-many decades as a missionary in Spanish-speaking countries (and who used to roll his Rs everytime he said my name) who instilled in me the love of Latin American literature. After that, it didn’t take long to discover that I also loved a wide segment of Spanish and Latin American music. Later (and perhaps most significantly), when I was an editor for a denominational magazine, I spent about a week on the Texas-Mexico border touring, visiting and eating with and listening to the stories of immigrants and residents on both sides of the border, who opened up an entire new world to me.


But on this day, I can’t help but think of the men, women and children I met in those border towns in Texas and Mexico. They are living a toe-to-toe battle with poverty while longing for and doing what they can to make a better life for themselves and their children. As we in the U.S. struggle to work out immigration policies, it is easy to focus on the laws and economics, but then we lose sight of what’s at stake: real, individual people. And days like today call them to my mind and prayers again.
Again, my forays into Mexican life, culture and arts are limited, but I’ve loved and been moved by much of what I’ve discovered so far. And I’m glad for the excuse to immerse myself in it again.