When you migrate, without intending to forget,
When you leave without intending to leave,
When you go away without the intention of leaving,
Because you leave without leaving behind a town, a family, a life,
You leave a place, but without taking your heart away from that city, that house, that life.
You set out to begin a journey, but you never quite arrive…
You're never from here because you're forbidden to belong.
But you're not from there either, because you're obligated not to return.
How can you return if all that awaits you there is oblivion, absence, deprivation, and disobedience?
How do you feel if they persecute you, humiliate you, corner you, force you to hide who you are...? They even kill you!

There are places we will never again inhabit, visit, or hold, yet in those places—in some hidden corner—there are people filled with light, in other places, you encounter others who welcome you with love. These are luminous beings who leave a light burning within us—a light that instills hope and faith—burning hearts filled with Christian love that bring the Gospel of love for one's neighbor to life.