In August 2023, I arrived in El Paso after a 6-month language emersion in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Then I underwent a seven-month tedious visa application process. This process included a trip to Manila in March 2024 for consular appearance, biometrics, and an interview. Upon returning, my religious visa granted me a broader capacity to serve in both sides of the US/Mexico border. I divide my time between Juarez’s Columban Cathedral Project/Casa San Columbano and El Paso’s Annunciation House, collaborating with teams of volunteers in serving migrant and refugee families.
My walks to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico and then back to El Paso, Texas are, in many ways, like a personal journey to Emmaus—filled with moments of reflection, confusion, doubt, revelation, and unexpected joy. What began as a simple task of crossing the border became, for me, a deeper pilgrimage of connection and discovery both with the communities I serve and with God, who continues to reveal Himself in the simplest of moments.
“Start with the tree design”, I was told. Every Saturday, I would join this group of women gathering around a table filled with threads, needles, and fabric. These women, with their hands busy and their faces focused, had a way of stitching through their challenges. All of them have different stories and experiences in their journey to the border yet they convey the same need – the need to survive. While waiting for their appointment for processing to cross to the US, they make use of their time to embroider. All materials are provided for free and once a piece is completed it will then receive a reasonable amount as each piece of completed embroidery is used to create a tote bag.
A mother with four kids would complete her piece in a week, moving swiftly through the motions, while I found myself lingering over every detail. Some women would complete their projects in two weeks. My project, the tree, took me three months to finish—yes, three months.
Each stitch felt like a small but significant step, not just in the embroidery, but in my own journey. Embroidery, in this way, mirrors life itself – often slow, sometimes monotonous, but filled with beauty that only becomes apparent through patience and persistence. Just as each stitch contributes to the larger pattern, each small act of connection with the women in the embroidery group contributes to a deeper sense of belonging. Over time, these stitches have woven not only a design but a sense of community, shared understanding, and personal growth.
For me, the experience of crossing into Juarez each Saturday and joining the group of women in Casa San Columbano has become more than just a routine; it’s a slow, unfolding journey of connection, discovery and healing. While they worked with efficiency, I worked with patience, slowly weaving my way through the process, and in doing so, I realized that it wasn’t just the final product that mattered – it was the act of creation itself.
I realized that the process of embroidery is about more than creating art; it’s about cultivating attention, learning to enjoy the journey rather than rushing towards the destination. In this way, I have found a deeper meaning in what seemed, at first, like a simple craft. The more I stitch, the more I connect – both with the tradition of embroidery and with the women around me. What started as an activity I felt compelled to do on Saturdays has now become a space for reflection, bonding, and personal transformation.
