God happens: Migrant family finds hope through volunteers
It is black out there. No border separates sky from sea on a cloudy night. You are in a raft with your wife, who hugs the baby. There are many others, pressed body against body, clinging to one another as waves slam against the bow. No one talks, but some clench their teeth. Salty tears mix with the ocean. Then the motor dies.
“You think you will die. I hug so tight my wife and baby. We pray to God. We pray in our language out loud. Everyone pray in their language. The motor start, then die. Then start again.”
For a moment, the stars shine through. Bobbing in an open sea, they look upon the stars and hope.
Guster and his wife, Berliane, and baby daughter, Ruth, fled violence and hunger in their native Haiti. The journey was treacherous; the outcome entirely unknown.
“You must have money for the guides who take you to the boat, for the men who will lead you through the jungle. You must have money to pay the men who threaten your wife.”
Precious Blood Companion Gretchen Bailey has gotten to know the family well, and she shares their story of despair and of hope and how God happens, especially at times when it seems that despair might swallow their hope whole.
“Guster and Berliane took turns carrying the baby on their backs, securing her with a rope when they climbed the cliffs of the Darién Gap,” Gretchen says. “They walked the trail along the crest of the mountains with precipices on either side, plunging into swift rivers. Several in their group drowned.”
In Mexico, Guster received a cell phone so that he could make an appointment on the CBP One app, dialing over and over to get through. Finally, he secured an appointment — four years out. But the sponsor the family was assigned never answered the phone, so they were among the hundreds of thousands of immigrants sent to cities of refuge, boarding a flight from El Paso and landing, unexpectedly, in San Francisco.
“They had no money, only the clothes they wore and the precious cloth bag that held their papers,” Gretchen says. “No one welcomed them because no one knew they were there. For two days they sat and slept on airport seats watching families with roller bags and Starbucks cups. A man noticed the mother wiping tears as she nursed her child. He bought the family food and got them an Uber to Alameda. God happened.”
In Alameda, the family was connected to Anna Rossi, founder of Welcome the Stranger and Shelter in Peace, nonprofits staffed by volunteers from the four Catholic parishes of Alameda, including Gretchen and Cath Sullivan, both Alameda Companions. The organization sponsors immigrant families like this who come to America. Anna contacted her volunteers and asked, “Are we ready to sponsor them?” The volunteers resoundingly agreed. “Again, God happened,” Gretchen says.
The sponsorship covers an apartment for a year, often time enough for immigrants to get on their feet. But Guster and Berliane haven’t been able to get green cards yet (although they’ve received word that they’ll be eligible, likely this winter). Guster wants to go to work to provide for his family, but he can’t.
In the meantime, volunteers help provide necessities of life and teach the couple how to navigate their new city. They take them to food banks and help them obtain basic health care. They teach them how to use public transportation. Guster and Berliane attend English classes for three hours a day, four days a week.
In June, the year of sponsorship for the apartment rental came to an end, and the family was at a loss for a place to live. That same month, Shelter in Peace received a Precious Blood grant that will cover rental costs. God happened.
The holding pattern they’re in can be depressing. They have family in Haiti who aren’t safe, and they’re helpless to assist them. They’re unable to make much progress in beginning a new life. But there are bright spots, too — joining a church community and hearing services in Spanish. Finding other Haitian migrants — rare in this area of the country — and speaking their native language. Coming across plantains and mangoes in a Latino market just a bus ride away.
For now, Gretchen says, the family waits in a safe place. “Every morning and night they give thanks that God has happened. Family is far away, but family is also here, where God is found in the wounds of a mother, father, and child that faced a treacherous passage, and still face much uncertainty. From the hearts of strangers, they are fed and given a place to rest. Many are at the doors of the inn. May we find a way to open the door, allowing God to happen.”