WITNESS-Conclusion

WITNESS-CONCLUSION

The carpet in the large apartment was a dusky blue.  I ran from room to room to see it all.  How different it all looked.  The ceilings were low not tall like back home, there was carpet not tile on the floors, except for the linoleum of the kitchen and the octagon shaped white and black tiles in the bathroom.  If I dragged my feet, my skirt would stick to my legs and a current of electricity would shock anyone I touched.  Some of the windows looked onto the brick walls of the apartments next door.  The kitchen window looked out to a screened porch and beyond there was a tiny square yard, frozen over like everything else in this cold place.  The front windows were my favorite because they looked out to a park filled with naked trees and covered in layers of snow.  The rooms were all empty of furniture.  Mami looked about with a bewildered look.  Where would we sleep?  Where would we eat?  Papi hugged her close and then pulled the rest of us to them.  We were together.  At last, we were all together.  The rest would work out in Dios’ time.

A knock on door broke us apart.  Papi opened the door to a miracle.  A truck sat on the icy road in front of the apartment building.  The man at the door had a chair in his arms and behind him were more men and woman carrying things.  And what things they were!!  Beds, mattresses, sofa, chairs, tables and more chairs made their way through the door.  Mami had shaken off her shock and was now using sign language to gesture where to put the items.  My brothers and sisters put their coats and boots back on and helped bring the things in. 

There were bags of warm clothes.  I quickly found a pair of boy’s boots just my size.  I kicked off my blue shoes and stepped into their warmth.  In the kitchen two ladies were filling up the pantry with food.  Plates, utensils, pots and pans came next.  Mami hugged the women to her and debuted her English “sank ju!, sank ju!”(Thank you)  I came to understand that all these wonderful people had come from the local parish.  This was their welcome to the newest immigrants to their country.  My father thanked everyone again and again.  Tears shined brightly in his dark eyes.  My brothers and sisters were speaking English with everyone and I yearned to understand what they were saying.

That night we were all together for the first time in  what had seemed like years.   We were warm, our bellies and our hearts were full.  We had been welcomed and embraced by our new faith community to this strange land of cold and ice.  My angel told me that I wouldn’t be seeing him/her much longer.  I had my family now and all the new, kind people that God was putting in my life.  But my angel had been there for me when I was scared and lonely.  I didn’t want him/her to go.  “I will never leave you.  You can talk to me anytime.  I will help you always if you let me.  Call on me, I will be here.  You and I will be companions in this life and the next.”

I knew that I was loved by my family and God.  I was safe and all my needs were met.  I let myself feel the happiness and as I slept, dreamed of blue skies framed by palm trees.

  

WITNESS-Part V

WINTESS-Part V

The blue-gray expanse of sky illuminated the stark landscape.  The trees looked like black sticks and the grass was white under a layer of ice and snow.  Going through the gangway had chilled me to the bone and I shook like a plucked wire.  My skirt and sweater weren’t up to the task of keeping me warm.  Our breath came out in white puffs that reminded me of Papi smoking a cigar.

Love had brought us to this cold place.  Love of family.  When my parents inquired with the nice Americanos that ran the Catholic Charities, they were told that my brothers and sisters had been sent to foster families in Chicago.  Mami and I didn’t speak a word of English, but most folks we met had treated us kindly.  I was weary from all the travel, hungry and now so very cold.

I laid my head on my father’s shoulder as he carried me through the cold tunnel out to the terminal.  Ahead was noise and confusion.  People were greeting their loved ones as they left the plane.  I could hear the screamed “Mami! Papi!” from somewhere in the crowd and then we were a mass of arms and legs, tears and laughter, hugs and pats.  Mami and Papi cried tears of joy as they held all of us.  Mel had grown a foot.  He was now taller than Emi.  Tata and Yeye had long hair.  They were all dressed in heavy coats, scarves, hats, boots and there were gloves poking from their pockets.  I was passed around to the boys, but Tata held me the longest.  Even Yeye looked happy to see me. 

We were introduced to the foster parents.  Emi and Mel had gone to live with a kind and generous Cuban family that had emigrated in the 1950’s.  Tata and Yeye were living with a wonderful American family.  I saw my angel peak out from the edge of the group.  One blue eye winked at me and sent me a wide smile that told me that everything would be okay now.  There wasn’t a soldier in sight.

WITNESS-Part IV

WITNESS-Part IV

My favorite blue shoes made a clicking sound as I struggled to keep up with Mami’s hurried gait.  Her hand clutched mine tightly.  Mami had told me to hush so many times that I was all but mute.  She had resorted to putting her hand over my mouth to remind me to be still.  How can she expect me to be still?” I thought.

Papi held papers in his hands as we waited in line.  In front and behind us were lots of families, suitcases in hand waiting to get on the airplane that shone brightly in the noon day sun.  A current of nervousness traveled through the air.  Short whispered conversations could be heard.  In the long, wide hall were a row of soldiers, carrying their guns and looking in our direction.  I heard a muttered “Gusano! (worm)” from a soldier who spat on the ground before putting his cigar back into his mouth.  I looked up at my mother, who had turned pale at the utterance by the soldier.  She pulled me tightly to her side. 

Our turn finally came to speak with the man at the table.  He wore glasses and had kindly eyes.  “They are leaving us so young,” he commented sadly as he looked at me pressed up next to Mami.  The soldier next to him gestured towards my father’s hand.  After a heated exchange of words, Papi turned to Mami and told her to take off her wedding ring.  My father took their rings and dropped them over the table where they clinked loudly before they rolled to the floor. Then he took my mother’s arm and we headed out the door into the sunshine.

All the people on the plane gave a cheer of utter joy as the ground pulled away and we went up, up, up into the blue sky.  I sat next to Mami, nose pressed to the window.  The propellers on the plane moved so fast that I couldn’t see the individual blades. And the roar they made had me screaming to be heard.  Mami gave me a genuine smile, a smile I hadn’t seen for a long, long time.  I wondered if my angel would fly to America too. 

WITNESS-Part III

WITNESS-Part III

Intense blue met my startled gaze.  Then a smile like sunshine radiated from a beautiful face.  I smiled back.  My innermost being understood that this friend had been sent by Papa Dios to help me endure the scorching loneliness that I had felt since my siblings had disappeared from my life.  An angel; he or she was an angel to bring me hope.

My friend spent a lot of time with me each day.  I couldn’t tell if the angel was a girl or a boy as he or she was dressed in a gown of searing white.  It didn’t matter.  My friend had time to hear what I had to say.  My friend would play with me when my mother was so sad that she couldn’t get out of bed or my father came home late, tottering on his feet as if he were just learning to walk, scaring me with the noise he made as he knocked things over until he could fall into bed.

I told my angel all my hurts.  I shared stories of my hometown and my life before the soldiers came.  I told my angel about my brothers and sisters and about our neighbors; about the little park in the town square where we were allowed to play after dinner each night.  About the sweet man that owned the dime store next to our house.  All the little details of a way of living that were fading away day by day. 

My angel friend would listen patiently and would always tell me that God loved me very much.  I would see my brothers and sisters again, but I needed to be patient and very good, obeying my parents, even when they weren’t acting like themselves. 

One day a visitor came to see my father.  I almost didn’t recognize him as it had been so long since I had seen him.  He looked old, much older than my father and yet he was younger.  Tio, Papi’s younger brother, had come to have a talk with my father.  He greeted my mother in an odd manner and rubbed my head.  Before I would have run to him and he would have thrown me in the air, but now I felt a chasm between us, all of us and him.  I looked at my angel friend.  Sad blue eyes looked back at me.

The two men went into my parent’s room and shut the door.  Arms crossed my mother paced from window to window.  I could hear the men whispering and wondered what this new development could mean for us.  Finally, the door opened.  Tio nodded to Mami, gave me a long, piercing look and then went out the door.  I turned to see my father wipe tears from his eyes.

WITNESS-Part II

WITNESS-Part II

By: Prayer Warrior

The blue sky reassured me that not everything had changed.  The sun shone brightly on the tiles of my aunt’s courtyard.  Yeye was skipping rope, while the boys had their heads together, whispering, always whispering since the day they came home from the awful place where they had been held.  Tata didn’t burst out in song or grab me for a twirl as she had always done before.  She seemed to have grown up from one day to the next, now spending all her time with the adults.  My father was always serious, with anger bubbling just under the surface.  It scared me a little... this angry Papi. My beautiful mother rarely smiled and spoke little.  She seemed to have an interior dialogue going constantly with Papa Dios (Daddy God).

Havana was quieter than normal.  When we had visited before, the streets were a whirlwind of sound and activity.  The guagua’s (small buses built to navigate the narrow streets) chugged along as the street vendors hawked their wares to the visitors to the city.  Whenever we came to the capitol city, my mother held my hand firmly.  I tended to wander as new sights or sounds captured my attention. There were soldiers now, dressed in green, carrying guns in the streets and near every plaza.  My father would grab me up into his strong arms and walk in the opposite direction if we came across the soldiers.

Sometimes we passed soldiers as we walked to the church.  Mami came each day to light a candle by the statue of La Virgen de Caridad (Our Lady of Charity).  La Virgencita wore a dress of gold and baby Jesus held in her left arm was dressed to match.  The church was a cool haven from the warm sun outside and it was filled with stories.  Every window had a story, the altar had a story, the walls had stories.  I couldn’t read yet, but the richness of the carvings, windows and paintings spoke to me of holy, sacred things.  Their stories spoke to me of Papa Dios’ love. The ugly green uniforms and guns did not enter the church.

I missed my home.  I missed my toys.  I missed my brothers and sisters the way they used to be.  I missed Papi’s smiles and Mami’s laughter.  Tia was kind and generous, but her house, though grand, wasn’t home.  Then the unthinkable happened.  From one day to the next my brothers and sisters were gone.  Mami cried and cried and cried.  Papi wiped his own tears away when he thought no one was looking.  I asked a hundred times a day where they had gone.  “They left me alone…” I accused.  Mami would hold me and tell me that we would see them again soon. We needed to be patient, and we needed to keep praying to Papa Dios, to Jesus and to La Virgencita.  From the emptiness I felt I called out to Papa Dios...  That’s when I saw the angel.