A state of chronic powerlessness eats away at a person.
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
His puppyhood was wonderful.
Every day was full of joy. l. There were brothers and sisters to play with. There was always a warm, soft place to sleep cuddled next to his mother. His mother’s milk was sweet and she smelled like love.
Life was good.
Their people paid scant attention to him or his siblings until they begin to eat puppy food. He liked the puppy food, but it was not sweet and warm like his mother’s milk.
When they took his mother away, he was so confused. He wanted to be with her. He missed her warmth and smell.
The people just threw the food in the kennel. He had to scramble to get his share and he seldom did. The other puppies were more aggressive.
Hunger made him uneasy and timid, and he missed his mother. Except for mealtime, he spent most of his days at the kennel’s edge in a state of nervousness.
Other people begin to come to see them and take them home. Finally, there was only his runt brother, who got even less food than he did, and him. Soon the two were packed into a crate and put in the back of the truck. The ride was bumpy and cold. Both brothers urinated in their fear.
The truck backed up to a grassy spot where it was crowded and noisy and had so many smells that he was overcome with the stories they told by. Feeling frantic from the chaos, he saw danger everywhere.
His brother barked at the people walking by. Most just glanced over and continued their way, but that didn’t stop his brother from barking at every new person.
One little girl holding her father’s hand stopped to look at them. His brother barked and put his face up to the bars of the crate.
“Oh, Daddy!” she said. “Look at that cute little puppy. He’s so small.”
“He’s probably the runt,” her father replied. He hoped she would follow him as he walked on but she didn’t.
She put her hands up to where his brother began to lick her fingers.
“Oh look, Daddy. He likes me. Can we take him home? Oh please Daddy. I’ll take good care of him.”
The father sighed. Who could resist those eyes. He wished they had not walked down this way, but he knew the puppy would be going home with them.
The man told him the price and opened the crate so the little girl could take his brother into her arms. His brother was wagging his tail and licking the girl’s face. She was giggling and kissing him back.
He watched them walk away.
A long time passed with no one else stopping. He softly whimpered. He was all alone and it was getting colder.
“Looks like the side of the road for you, bud.”
Right after he said it, a young boy stopped in front of the truck bed.
“ Your puppy looks cold and sad,” he said.
“Yeah, he needs a new home.”
The man looked at the boy examining him. He was a Latino boy, probably around 9-10. He doubted he had any money to spend.
“This puppy ain’t free, amigo.”
The boy sighed.
“I can’t buy him. I only have five dollars.”
The man paused. “Better than going to the trouble of dumping him,” the man thought to himself.
“You know what, you look like you really want this dog, and I need to be getting back home. I’ll let you have him for the five dollars.”
The boy’s eyes brightened but then he frowned.
“Does he eat a lot?”
“Look at him. Does he look like he eats a lot?”
“ I guess not.”
The boy carefully counted out his change. He had a three dollar bills, six quarters, four dimes and two nickels. The man almost changed his mind but took the money and shoved it into his pocket.
The boy smelled good. He buried his head beneath the boy’s arm as they began to walk away. He was still trembling but the boy kept up a soft murmur that he found comforting. This boy smelled good, not like the man. He began to breathe more easily.
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Matthew 25:40
The boy named him Feliz.
The boy’s name was Pablo.
Feliz truly was happy.
Pablo’s father smelled good like Pablo. He didn’t try to take Feliz from Pablo’s arms. He seemed to know Feliz felt safe there. Like the girl’s father, he could see immediately how Pablo and Feliz already loved each other. Feliz could not get close enough to Pablo and kept trying to squeeze deeper into his jacket.
The cost of the food bothered Pablo. He knew how little they had to spare. Pablo’s father put has hand on his shoulder and said, “We have enough to feed your puppy, hijo. El es familia.”
Feliz felt like he was truly part of the family. Pablo had a sister, Cecilia, who was delighted to see him. She made him feel so good. At first, it was a little scary when she held his face, but soon he began to look forward to her caresses.
Having a family to love him changed Feliz. He looked forward to the treats Pablo’s mother gave him when no one was looking. He loved chasing Cecilia and kissing her face when she fell down. She always got up and gave him a hug.
Pablo’s father would let him ride in his truck to the grocery store. At first, he was afraid of the truck, but Pablo’s father let him sit inside with him and kept his hand on his back when Feliz would shiver. Soon Feliz would jump into the truck whenever Pablo’s father whistled for him.
But Pablo was the best.
Pablo smelled of all that was good in life. Feliz stayed by his side whenever Pablo sat down. Feliz would wait patiently for the school bus. He knew exactly when Pablo and his sister were due to arrive.
Every arrival was a celebration. Feliz loved Pablo so much.
Each day Feliz felt safer. Each day he became less nervous. Six months passed and no one would guess he had once been timid and afraid.
If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.
Francis of Assisi
The day was like most days until the men in black came. Pablo and Cecilia were walking from the school bus with Feliz waiting for them, a ball in his mouth. Feliz knew Pablo would throw the ball with him once he put his backpack down and got a mango for his snack.
The noise from the men in black was deafening. There were shouts and the loud clicking sounds from the metal of their guns and gear. Feliz began barking and howling in terror.
Pablo’s father went running while his mother ran out of the house holding Cecilia and yelling, “I’m a citizen. I have my ID. My husband has a green card.”
Pablo’s father was not to be seen. He had escaped when the men in black appeared. He knew no one would be looking at his green card.
All this happened in a cacophony of fear and sound. Feliz could feel the danger in the air and was frantic. There were hate smells everywhere.
When one of the men in black grabbed Pablo’s arm, Feliz rushed to him barking as loud as he could. He jumped on the man snarling and biting to prevent him from dragging Pablo away. The man let go of Pablo and swung his gun at Feliz.
Feliz’s head exploded with pain as he was tossed to the ground by the blow. The world became dar. He never knew what hit him. Feliz's body shivered and he let out his last breath.
With an inhuman shriek, Pablo ran to Feliz’s body tears flowing down his face. Pablo’s mother moaned as the man in black tried to wrestle Cecilia from her arms so he could cuff her. Holding the limp body of his pet in his arms, Pablo called for his mamacita, but she was doing her best to hold on to Cecilia.
About that time, their neighbors, Tom and Sarah Lewis appeared. Sarah ran immediately to his mama and wrapped her arms around both of them. “She is an American citizen and so are these children. I held both of them when they came home from the hospital." The men ignored her but allowed her to hold on to a crying Cecilia.
The man in black shoved Pablo’s mother to the ground and cuffed her hands behind her back. He looked up at another man in black approaching. The man shook his head. They had all they were going to get.
Leaving his mother on the ground, the man grabbed Pablo from where he was holding Feliz and jerked him to his feet. Tom Lewis advanced to them and took Pablo’s other arm. He got up into the masked man’s face. Tom Lewis was a former marine sergeant and looked every bit of it.
“You are not taking this boy anywhere, and that woman is a United States citizen.”
The man in black looked around. The crowd was growing, protesting loudly. He released Pablo while another masked man pulled his mother off the ground and forced her into the van.
As quickly as they came, they were gone, leaving crying children and a dead dog behind.
Pablo would have fallen had their neighbor not caught him and taken him into his arms. He didn’t try to speak to Pablo. He simply held him close as Pablo sobbed.
We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.
- Mother Teresa
The first week, neither child went to school, or stopped crying. The Lewises took both children into their home. Their own children had long since left so they had the space to care for them. The children slept together and rarely left each other’s side. The nightmares came every night. All they could do was hold them and whisper a lie. That it would be okay.
They buried Feliz in the Lewis’s backyard. Several of the neighbors stood over Pablo as he wept. Some prayed the Rosary as Feliz was laid in the ground, their hearts broken by his senseless death. His poor little body was wrapped in a sheet with fading cartoon characters.
Pablo’s father returned to the house the next day. He had been hiding with friends who told him what happened, that the children were safe but his wife had been taken. Cecilia clung to his neck and Pablo to his side as they sat on the sofa talking.
“ We have been trying to find your wife, but the information is hard to get. We have several people working on it. They are hoping that your wife’s proof of citizenship will eventually mean her release.”
“ What should I do?” Pablo’s father asked. “Will they take away my green card?”
“We just don’t know,” Tom told him. “This didn’t seem targeted at you specifically. It seemed random, but since your wife was taken, you probably aren’t safe here,”
Pablo and Cecelia did not want their father to leave but he needed to find them a place to stay while they awaited news of their mother. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis promised their father that they would be safe with them.
Their neighborhood was a mix of ethnicities. John and Sarah Lewis were not the only white people living there, but they were a minority. Most of the neighbors were Latino or black or Asian. They inherited the house from her parents. The neighborhood had been in sort of a reverse gentrification.
It was a good place to live.
The Lewis’s children had many friends in the neighborhood. Growing up with so many different cultural experiences was wonderful . Street parties were frequent and fun. When Pablo was born, neighbors brought tamales, cornbread and beans as well as spicy stir-fries. It was all delicious. Their neighborhood was a place of caring and community.
There were other Latino neighbors raided that day where family members were taken. The entire neighborhood was grieving and working to help one another.
***
It was a month before Pablo’s mother was released. Their family moved to a different part of town where they were unknown. It meant starting over, but both were able to find new jobs through friends. They wanted to do as much as they could to keep themselves safe, but they knew there was no longer a certainty of safety anywhere.
It was a sad goodbye. Pablo’s parents thanked their kind neighbors over and over again. They promised to stay in touch but both knew there would be no guarantee that they could. It could be dangerous for Pablo’s family.
There were many tears and embraces, and when they left, the Lewis’s home felt empty. The children had left. Their despair had not.
Mr. Lewis picked up his guitar and went outside to be alone and play. His wife knew he needed the time and the music. She began to clean their already clean house. Her comfort came from moving.
When he came back in hours later, he told his wife he wrote a song. As he strummed his fingers over the strings and began to sing, his wife began to cry and nod her head.
Where does it end, my friend?
Where does it end?
Families torn apart with no regard
For their cries of fear
No reason or justice to be found.
How did we get here, my friend, my friend?
How did we get to this place?
Tears shed for the lifeless body
A brown child holds
But none for the child who holds him
Hatred spews its venom
But it is the apathy that wounds
And the cameras roll on and on
Where does it end, my brother?
How do we find our way?
White arms holding a black child
Blue eyes shedding tears
For a brown child’s grief
Opening doors to those who flee
Danger we can’t imagine lurking
In all those places we find safe
We look around
We see what is before us
We do what we can and then find more to do.
We smile at strangers
We build bridges crossing man-made lines
And become friends
It all begins with us.
It has to be us.
It has to be me.
If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.
- Desmond Tutu
