A Blessing in the Key of Yellow

In 1992 I was appointed by Bishop Jack Tuell to be the pastor of a little church in Calexico, California -- my first assignment in the United Methodist Church. Calexico is a small town located two hours east of San Diego, in the heat of the Imperial desert, on the US-Mexico border. It is one of the poorest cities in the poorest counties in California. Its residents are overwhelmingly of Mexican ancestry. The town functions in many ways as the northernmost suburb of the enormous city of Mexicali, just across the border in Baja California.

The Calexico church was home to a small congregation, and I came to them with all kinds of ideas about what I was supposed to do as a pastor. My first and closest collaborator was a woman named Leticia, who was the secretary of the Church. Leticia was a warm and vibrant person, the daughter of a Mexican farmworker who had worked for years in what the people in Calexico called "los field." She was usually dressed in bright colors, almost always sported a genuine smile, and was quick to give a hug to whomever happened to stop by the church, no matter their station in life.

There was just one problem -- Leticia was a terrible secretary. Her written English was poor, and even in Spanish her spelling and orthography wasn't great. I quickly learned I couldn't rely on her for even routine written correspondence, and when it came to keeping the books, I had to doublecheck her math.

At first, I found this very frustrating, but about six months into my tenure, I came to an important realization. Leticia was a terrible secretary, but she was a fabulous Associate Pastor. For years, lead Pastors like me had passed like the wind through the life of that church, but when it came to the emotional life of the congregation and its families, Leticia was an absolute rock. Leticia had experienced many hardships in her life, and in this she was vastly more qualified than I was to understand, and care for, the people of that church and community.

Things went much, much better for everyone once I came to this realization -- better for me, for Leticia, and for the church. I started doing the church's books and correspondence, and I started to follow Leticia's lead in caring for the congregation. I also started praying with Leticia regularly and discussing my sermon with her through the week as I prepared to deliver it the next Sunday morning.

One day I arrived at my office and found Leticia in what seemed a mischievous mood. I remember she was dressed in a bright yellow dress, and she wore a matching, sunny disposition. We chatted briefly, as we often did upon my arrival at the church. But this time when I walked into my office, Leticia followed me in. In a manner that I can only describe as mystical, Leticia asked if she could pray for me. I said, "Sure," and she asked me to sit down in the chair by my desk and to spin it around so I was facing her. Before I knew it, Leticia had gotten down on her knees, right in front of the chair, and had bent her forehead all the way to the floor in front of me. She then stretched her hands out in front of her head and placed them on my feet.

And then Leticia prayed in Spanish, ¡Cuán hermosos son los pies del mensajero que trae buenas nuevas!" (Translation: "How beautiful are the feet of the messenger who brings good news." -- Isaiah 52.7) She got up and gave me a hug and walked out of the office, I'm not sure to do what next.

This event took place some 33 years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. A Bishop had ordained me, but a humble Mexican woman had delivered to me a calling. In many ways, I find myself still struggling to live up to the promise of the blessing that Leticia shared with me in that humble church office so long ago.

Now I find myself preparing for retirement. In fact, I have officially retired from the United Methodist Church, but I continue my work on the border through the nonprofit organization, the Friends of International Friendship Park. Next Saturday, August 16, we are sponsoring gatherings along the length of both the US-Mexico and US-Canada borders, for what we are calling a "Day of International Friendship." We have chosen yellow flowers as the symbol for the day, because -- as a new friend of mine, Raquel, has so neatly summarized -- yellow flowers remind us of our common bonds, our strength in numbers, and the light we follow even in dark times.

These thoughts of yellow flowers have brought Leticia to my mind and heart. And so, I am dedicating a yellow rose to the cause of international friendship in her memory -- she died in 2021. And as part of my donation, I'll be sending a note to Leticia's family to let them know I am thinking of her.

Next Saturday my flower will be on display at one of dozens of sites along our nation's southern and northern borders, where people will be gathering in this spirit of Friends Across Borders. I invite you to join me in sending a flower today -- and if you wish, you, too, can dedicate it in honor or in memory of a friend.

SEND A FLOWER NOW

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