“My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.” – LK 15: 1-3, 11-32
Last month, I moved from a place I consider a second home, Los Angeles, to a foreign place, Argentina. Aside from speaking the language, I still feel quite lost. My experiences have shown me the goodness in accepting my indebtedness to many others.
When praying with the story of the prodigal son before, I have experienced it from different perspectives in the story. Sometimes, I recognized how I fail to truly appreciate my gifts. I would run home, desperate for pity, and would receive much more: mercy and complete embrace from Love. Other times, I would feel annoyed and almost betrayed by the grace extended to another lost person seeking for healing, especially when that person has hurt me. On occasion, I even imagine myself being deeply moved, embracing, and offering unreserved besos.
Today, I realized how indebted I am to many gracious, patient, and merciful people. I use these phrases often: ¿Me podrás ayudar? (Can you help me?); No entiendo. (I don't understand.); and ¿Dónde está...? (Where is...?). While Carolina was working away, I interrupted for help to call a taxi four times. I could not figure it out and was stranded in a storm. I kept hanging up on the frustrated taxi driver accidentally. Florencia accompanied me to staple papers and Luis showed me how to light my stove without burning down my apartment building.
This is every day, all day: humbled because I am not being able to figure out even small things on my own, trustful that someone will help me - usually beyond my needs. I am grateful and accept their care for me - the foreigner. Thankfully, I have endless moments where I can say my most frequent saying: ¡gracias, chau!
When have I received someone else's patience and mercy?
How can I extend that patience and mercy to another?
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