Can You See What I See?

It has been over a week since returning from Matamoros, Mexico and Brownsville, TX. Still feeling rather numb. But this is what I saw:

Young mothers with babies in fabric body wraps,

trauma and exhaustion clearly expressed on their faces.

Old men with swallowed pride saying thank you,

for meals served.

Young dads, carefully watching over wives and little children,

concern clearly visible on their faces.

Children, so many children of all ages. Some running and playing,

others hanging out, looking like they just wanted out.

Volunteers, with concern and a touch of fear for the safety of those being served,

clearly expressed on their faces.

Tents, porta potties, cooking fires, books, wagons, clothes drying, phones charging,

water tanks, showers, tents from World Central Kitchen, Unicef tent, medical help, Mexican National Guard with weapons, a river, and a fence.

Tent courts not giving due process, hiding behind a mask of concern and care.

Buses emptying and an airplane loading, then departing with traumatized, scared people who did nothing wrong except ask for help at a time when so many refuse to help them.

Let me tell you what I didn’t see:

US government presence, enough international humanitarian presence, freedom from danger,

the cartel who roam freely, enough volunteers for all that needed to be done,

enough witnesses for all that needed to be seen,

due process. “Rapists, murderers, bad hombres” which our president declared I would see.

It has been over a week since returning from Matamoros, Mexico and Brownsville, TX. Still feeling rather numb. But that is what I saw.

Mary