<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5235562112699112946</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:44:05.502-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seeds of Peace</title><subtitle type='html'>He has showed you, O man, what is good.
       And what does the LORD require of you?
       To act justly and to love mercy
       and to walk humbly with your God.
                           --Micah 6:8</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seedsofpeacefield.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5235562112699112946/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seedsofpeacefield.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>E. Elizabeth Garcia,   Peacemaker - Getting in the Way.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00620098028956877884</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5235562112699112946.post-2133168122094370886</id><published>2007-02-16T08:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T15:57:02.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to Start?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was born and raised in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;Matamoros Tamaulipas&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;Mexico&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, a border town along the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;Rio Bravo, (Rio Grand if you're from "El otro lado")&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I often think of the most important or at least on of the most important moments in my life. I think because of the impact and the changes, culturally, socially, spiritually, I will have to say, moving to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Brownsville&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; changed my life  forever, for good or bad, the road since then is being an interesting one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;At age 15 my mom said: nos vamos al "otro lado"! the land of opportunities, the land of the free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As any mom, mine wanted me to be successful in life: "with Inglish" she told me, "you will get a good job" and I remember thinking--was it a crime to have a job that was not "good" what was a "good job" anyway, and what about ALL the people who did not have jobs, and those who did not know "Inglish"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Was God an "Inglish" speaker? Perhaps that is why my prayers were not answered. I remember being very sad, outraged, why was my mom doing this? Matamoros was our home, weren't there any opportunities, some good jobs? no ways to be successful in life? And what about the rest of our family, our friends, my friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But of course, at age 15, no one asked your opinion.  I did not have "papers" to live in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;Brownsville&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, I only had "la tarjeta" either way, we move to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Brownsville&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, and I became an "illegal alien" I remember feeling like a relative of ET! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The colonia (neigborhood), where we moved, was in the outskirts of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Brownsville&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, it was far away from everything, the closest store was about 5 miles away, there was no public transportation going that way, we were surrounded by tomatoes and potatoes fields.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But who cared--we were now in the land of the free! Yet, I was restricted and forced to live in the shadows, I did not go out of my house, and my room, for almost an entire year, because I was afraid of "La Migra" We heard many stories of people being arrested, detained, and deported back to Mexico...but wait a minute, wasn't this the "land of the free" I was confused! One thing was for sure, this time, God would hear my prayers--NOT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Many things happend in my family while I was living as an "illegal alien" for almost 5 years, deaths had occurred in the family. The person who I had admired the most in my childhood--my kinder garden teacher, La Maestra Julita--died, and I was not allowed to be in her funeral to pay my last respects to her, then My uncle was killed, and all I could do was tortillas de harina, to send the family in Matamoros, it was becoming clear to me, that my mom had it all wrong.  As an "illegal alien" I could not attend school, therefore I could not learn "Inglish" so how in the world was I suppose to become successful in life?  And at 15, I had to deal with depression, this was not the life my mom wanted for me, or was it? The depression absorbed my days and little by little, I succumbed to a life of darkness and shadows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;For the continuation click on the link &lt;a href="http://www.where2start2.blogspot.com/"&gt;Where to Start? Part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5235562112699112946-2133168122094370886?l=seedsofpeacefield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seedsofpeacefield.blogspot.com/feeds/2133168122094370886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5235562112699112946&amp;postID=2133168122094370886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5235562112699112946/posts/default/2133168122094370886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5235562112699112946/posts/default/2133168122094370886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seedsofpeacefield.blogspot.com/2007/02/where-to-start_16.html' title='Where to Start?'/><author><name>E. Elizabeth Garcia,   Peacemaker - Getting in the Way.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00620098028956877884</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
