Los Ninos de Nuestra Pais

I have come to realize that I have a terrible weakness towards Mexican kids. This picture is of Luis Armando (left) and Tonio, two friends I met on my mission trip to Mexico last summer. Luis Armando befriended me from the first day, but he was reluctant to help us build at first. He said he was too weak to hammer, but I convinced him to try, and he was great! I didn't talk to Tonio as much because he was really shy, but he would just walk up to me, look up at me, and smile so big.

I wonder what these boys are up to now.

I worked the u-pick strawberry booth Sunday and Monday, and this one Mexican family came both days. The father looked like a successful painter, as his large truck declared his painting business' logo, and his arms showed paint permanently plastered to the skin. The mother seemed to know little English since she let her husband and children do the talking.

The kids, however, were adorable. They were helpful pickers for their daddy in the field, but while he was loading the berries into the truck, they came to talk to me. Actually, they came just to look up at me and smile. Myra and Raul were their names, Myra told me. Raul wouldn't say a word. Myra was probably about five years old, but she wasn't in school yet, she said.

The government claims that we have an energy problem. I declare that it could be solved with ditching the petroleum idea and just letting these kids smile. Their smiles could light up the world.

The country of Mexico will always be close to my heart. For this reason and the fact that I work at a fruit stand, I support a fairly open immigration policy. I know for a fact, seeing how we're having such a difficulty finding strawberry pickers to supplement our crew of half a dozen Mexican men, that unemployed Americans will not do the labor that immigrants are willing to do. Yet people refuse to let them immigrate. I suppose it's ok. The majority of Americans don't include very much fresh produce in their diets anyway.

A customer came in this morning and asked where our cantaloupe came from, and I told him California, as it's another month or two still before our own is ready. He said, "You mean Mexico," with a smirk.

"No, they're from California," remembering that my manager told me to make sure that customers know the produce is from California and not Mexico, where the produce standards are supposedly not as high.

"Same thing," he replied. "The border has just been moved up," referring to the influx of Mexican immigration. He laughed.

I gave him an offended look and did not comment. I don't think that jokes like that are funny. The face of our country is changing, but isn't that what our country was founded upon?

Currently listening to: Bruce Sprinsteen - The Rising

Although I just finished listening to my favorite podcast: NPR's "All Songs Considered." Host Bob Boilen recorded Ben Gibbard's concert when he stopped in Washington DC a few days before I saw him on his solo tour. It was excellent, like seeing the show all over again. Check out his podcast to hear this amazing concert, then listen to some of the other stuff he has to say. Good stuff.

LB