Ruben navarrette: in mexico, a "devout Catholic" is a rare breed indeed. He says she's been waiting all of her life for a chance to see her kids again. Navarrette says her faith has helped her through the ordeal.
Ruben navarrette: in mexico, a "devout Catholic" is a rare breed indeed. He says she's been waiting all of her life for a chance to see her kids again. Navarrette says her faith has helped her through the ordeal.
Ruben navarrette: in mexico, a "devout Catholic" is a rare breed indeed. He says she's been waiting all of her life for a chance to see her kids again. Navarrette says her faith has helped her through the ordeal.
Mary Anne is staring at herself in the bathroom mirror and
whispering motivational quotes in her tiny Spanish Harlem apartment. "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." She is about to go to another casting call that she will not get. Unable to pay her rent for the third straight month, her landlord will be forced to evict her. Mary Anne will have to move back to Montana and take up the night shift at the Red Roof Inn, where she will work for the next seven years due to an unexpected pregnancy. She will not return to New York again. She will, however, continue with her “acting,” starring in her neighboring town’s local community college productions. Mary Anne finally decides to quit after The Honesdale County Press gives her performance in “Airplane!: The Musical” a negative review. A suicide attempt will be made when she loses her custody battle. Luckily, a nice Jehova’s witness will save her, giving her— and God—another deserved chance. 6:16 AM – Ciudad Juarez
Señora Ramirez is waiting outside the US Embassy
clutching a folder stuffed with government documents. She has been anxiously waiting in line for three hours along with one- hundred-and-eighteen people. It's quite a chilly morning. She tugs at her worn out cardigan for warmth. She does not mind waiting. Señora Ramirez has, literally, been waiting all of her life. What’s a couple of more hours, she thinks to herself, and is the only thing she thinks for there is no room for negative thoughts. Right before she left her tiny house, in her tiny town, where she has lived all of her 67 years in that tiny frame of hers’, she lit a candle and prayed. For Senora Ramirez, along with 97% of the Mexican population, is what you call a “devout Catholic” and rare breed indeed. She believes that Dios—along with Jesus and Lupita of course—will guide her throughout this process. That she will finally see her kids Benny, Diego, Margarita, Juan, Ramon, Pablo, Julio, and Linda; her favorites. In eight hours and twenty-seven minutes she will be denied a US Visa. She will return to her small town and pass away in forty-two days. Her children, who are in California, will not be able to attend her funeral due to deportation fears.