I like to shop at a Mexican grocery store in a small town near where I live in Wisconsin. It offers fruits and vegetables that I enjoyed while living in Mexico at various times over the years, and speaking Spanish with the employees is fun and keeps me in practice. Everyone who works there, and almost all shoppers, are from Mexico or of Mexican heritage.
One day as I entered, two tall men went through the door ahead of me. Although Mexican, the men looked out of place, very different from the families usually in the small store, and unlikely there to buy vegetables. With an air of menace, they approached one of the employees who was setting out vegetables, backing him into a corner and standing way too close, looming over him. I did not try to hear what they were saying, but I had a bad feeling, and thoughts of “debt collectors” who prey upon immigrants came to mind.
I realized that God could and would help.
