Asylum Seekers, Refugees, and Immigrants Team

Reflections from Calvary on Immigration

“HAIR” BY WHITNEY HUDSON

I recently stumbled across two photos on my phone, interestingly placed together by the

algorithm of my phone’s “memories” The photos were separated by years and

continents, but they spoke to the same reality. 

The first photo was of me, just after college, sitting with a young Pakistani girl. At that

time, I was volunteering with a small non-governmental organization (NGO) within a

refugee camp. The photo captures just after this young lady had enjoyed playing with

my hair. Tufts of my hair are flying in different directions. An odd pigtail is sticking out on

one side. But I didn’t care. We look happy, cheerful even, despite all the uncertainties

this girl faced living in a temporary shelter, far from her home of origin. 

The second photo was just last year, right in Chicagoland, sitting in the home of a

recently resettled Rohingyan family. This time the picture is just of me, with my hair

braided beautifully and bows placed with precision. The two little girls in the home had

also decided they wanted to play with my hair, tossing it here and there in similar silly

patterns as my Pakistani friend. Their mother, a woman not much younger than me,

stepped in, “No, let me do it” With the precision of an experienced mother of girls, she

weaves my hair perfectly. “Your hair is so beautiful” she tells me, and then takes

pictures with my phone so I can see the end result. She also tells me, “Me? No, I am not

beautiful. You are beautiful” much to my dismay that she would say such an untrue

statement about herself in front of her two young girls. 

My hair has often been a point of comment and connection, particularly with people

from the far-east where the blonde-ish reddish hue is an anomaly within their own home

countries. Seeing these two pictures side by side gave me a new thought. Isn’t it

amazing that something as simple as hair can connect us across cultures and

continents? The desire to play, to be creative, and to be beautiful - these are all

common human experiences that connect us. 

I did not have to do anything special to connect with these young women. All I had to do

was show up, be willing to be touched, and share what I had in common - in this case,

my hair. 

“Heavenly Citizenship” by D.L

My name is DL, and I am a child of immigrant parents.  I also discovered that at the age

of 14 when I was beginning to think about college and future job prospects I was

undocumented.  See, I was born in Brazil and then came to the United States as a 6

month old baby.  By the grace of God I was able to finish high school, college, and

eventually a seminary education.

Today I am a green card holder and a legal permanent resident and I am applying to

become an American citizen.  However I still remember the struggles I had to endure as

an undocumented immigrant, from having to work under the table and being exploited

by my employers and not being able to get gainful employment due to my

undocumented status. When I was in seminary, I remember asking God if I can one day

be able to work among the poor and the undocumented people.  Recently I was able to

work in an immigrant shelter working with migrant children.  My work in the shelter was

to ensure the safety of the children that have endured difficult journeys to get to the US

border and ensure that in the process of their reunification with a family member in the

United States and to ensure that the children will be reunited with a trusted family

member in a safe and timely manner.  

The immigration topic in the United States has always been an explosive topic for good

reasons. Of course there is a need to fix the immigration issue that has plagued our

country for a long time. However whenever I have seen the faces of these migrant

children that have been away from their parents from their home country to escape

dangerous situations there or even have been separated from their parents at the

border, I remember the struggles I have had as an undocumented immigrant myself. I

remember the graciousness that many people have shown me to show me the Gospel

of Jesus Christ and the Gospel hospitality when I did not know my way in this country. 

As I am getting acclimated to the United States myself and am in the process of

becoming a US citizen, the verse from Exodus 22:21 comes to my mind - ““Do not

mistreat or oppress a foreigner, for you were foreigners in Egypt.”  Though I am in the

process of becoming a US citizen myself and will finally be completely acclimated into

the United States, as I have died and risen in Christ my ultimate citizenship is with the

kingdom of God.  Out of that heavenly citizenship, I pray I myself will never forget the

time when I was a foreigner myself in this country, be gracious to the foreigners living in

our land, and be an ambassador of the kingdom of Christ wherever I am called to serve

as I remember this verse from Philippians 3:20 - “But our citizenship is in heaven, and

from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to

bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like

his glorious body.”

“Opening Doors”, by Heather Ipema

The sun had not yet risen when I knocked on the townhome door – too early in the

morning for the doorbell. It was my first task as a World Relief transportation volunteer –

going to a location where I had never been, to pick up a person that I had never met.

There was apprehension in my heart in that moment. Quickly, I started to wonder about

the woman inside the home. How does it feel to open the door to a stranger, knowing

that soon after you open the door you will also entrust yourself to the care of the person

standing on your doorstep? The courage of her voluntary dependence was humbling.

The request had come the day before – could you provide transportation to a doctor’s

appointment? I saw the doctor’s address and knew something of the story, enough for

my heart to be moved with compassion. The email included the distance to be covered

and the time of day; both were doable. I saw the beautiful alignment of availability and a

willing heart – and quickly responded with a “yes”. There would be some cost, some

inconvenience, in following through with the commitment, but in the moment of saying

“yes” I had already received the reward of peace and joy.

Perhaps my new friend was not the only one who opened a door that day. I allowed the

Spirit to push open the door to my heart – and she and I both received as a result.