The camp I am making music for this week is aimed at little kids. Children between three and seven show up each day in shorts and sunblock. There are snack breaks but some have their own water bottles. Their parents are mindful of the need for hydration. On Monday, there were a bunch of younger kids who were unsure about this whole plan. They clung to their moms until the singing and smiling counselors won them over. Which this year was early in the game. By Tuesday they were skipping along between activities, as familiarity eased out their fears. I repeat songs frequently, so they can feel like they are in the know. 

 

I watched how tenderly their moms and dads and grandmas said goodbye, with one more kiss, and a cheery wish for a great day. Their worth to these adults is incalculable. 

 

But I kept thinking about the children at the border. 

 

They too are loved in that overwhelming way that rushes in like a fire hydrant. But their parents have been robbed of what they care most deeply about. Their frightened and abandoned daughters and sons are left in the vacuum that is a detention center. The word vacuum is itself a tragic irony. They are as packed as can possibly be, and yet are at the same time horribly alone. 

 

I remember taking my kids to new places. When we traveled, or visited friends they did not know it was incredible to me that my presence alone was enough to give them security. I would nurse my baby, and she or he would drift easily to sleep. Even in those circumstances when I did not feel safe, like camping when a bear was banging around our tent, my children trusted that I would take care of them.  

 

The intense frustration and rage that those parents must feel, having tried with everything in them to protect their children from danger, has catapulted into the unthinkable. I read that there will be a vigil for these families in a few weeks. Thousands, perhaps millions of caring people will stand for the inhumanity that is being unleashed on defenseless families. 

 

May there be a light at the end of this darkness. 

 

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,  I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

 “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.  For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,  I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

 “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

 “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ Matthew 25