by Chris HokeRecently at our Spanish-and-Mixteco Language Service, Evaristo brought his mother for the first time. She is out of work, and trying to make ends meet, and so made 120 tamales to sell for a dollar each. Evaristo asked if I knew anyone who would want to buy some. I told him to bring his mom, as many tamales as she could make and come to the soup gathering after our English Language service. Epifania, a shy, indigenous Oaxacan migrant, a single mother of four came with her cooler of tamales and sold them all. We invited her to come downstairs for our Spanish-Mixteco Language service. The text was about Jesus, the good shepherd who gathers scattered sheep and brings them to pastures where they can eat and drink and be together.
After the service, she explained that work has run dry, and she is prepared to go back down to Oregon for two months for a secure job picking mistletoe. She would still pay rent at her one bedroom apartment, but doesn't want her two youngest kids there alone. Her request was whether Janet, 14, and Junior, 11, could sleep for two months at the Tierra Nueva building where her son Evaristo was now living with his wife Alicia and baby Alex.
The situation would be strained, and against our building policy at this point. Not to mention a burden to the newly married couple, and hard on the two kids to be away from their mother so long. It didn't look good, we told her, but we could pray and ask God for a solution, a salida, a way out. We would seek this Jesus we'd just read about, who offers to provide for us as a shepherd, and gather us with other sheep.
Her plan was to leave Wednesday morning. Every normal farm we mentioned, she said they weren't hiring as the season is over.
As we prayed, I kept getting the sense that God would give her an unexpected job, tomorrow, Monday. But I didn't share that. When finished praying, and before saying goodnight, Bob said, "What's the name of that one farmer...?" and we gave him a call. A good man who had employed migrant friends of ours in the past. The season was over, but we gave the man a call, and he invited her to an interview the next morning!
Listen to this. After asking a few last questions about her character, he told me he couldn't hire new workers at the farm as he has to lay off the season's workers this week. His plan, then, was to put Epifania on his payroll, but that she would work at a thrift store that supports a local Christian school.
"So...you're paying for her hours, for nothing--essentially donating labor to another business? To give Epifania, a woman you just met, a job?"
"Yes," the Dutch farmer explained cheerily in his singsong voice. "Am I making sense to you? I don't need labor here now, but you and Bob said you needed help. So I'll employ her to work at this other business where she can be around English speaking people, learn English, see? She can get off by 2:30 to pick up her daughter after school, see? She needs to be with her kids, not off in Oregon, right? And I figure that will be enough to meet the amount of money she told me she would need each week. She starts this Wednesday morning."
"Wow!" I was in disbelief, so used to fanagling with unbudging lawyers, judges, social workers, and employers. "You're a total minister!"
"Oh, we were put on earth to do more than collect money and stuff," he said with no preachy air, this Dutch immigrant who knows what it is to be a foreigner, and a Christian, even if he isn't as involved in the CRC church services so much these days. "We live in a society where we have more stuff than the whole world put together, and people are miserable everywhere you go in this country. That's the way I see it."
"Oh," he continued, "I also gave her daughter Janet a job. I told her if her mom has been in the states for ten years now, and should learn English! So I'm paying the girl one hour every day to teach her mom English. You know, told her to get simple Dr. Suess books and start with that an hour a day. So Janet's on the payroll now, too, right after school gets out."
I can't tell you how happy I am, so surprised. What if this is an example of "sustainable community," "Kingdom economics," or faith-based initiatives? Not a program, but a spirit that makes anything possible if you're converted on a heart level. Epifania got more than she expected, I think, on her first visit to "church." I'm happy to be part of such a Body as this in our valley. May Jesus be the one who gathers us, keeps us from being scattered by environmental forces, and guides us to green pastures to grow together in His presence.
