Invasion? Invader?(Cam Rascoe) Invasion?
Invader?
My wife’s minivan needed a tire replaced on the front passenger side of her vehicle so off to the tire shop I went to buy a used lightly worn tire. After getting the tire replaced, I paid, tipped and was on my way. That wasn’t the only chore on my “honey do list” that day. I had to pay the water bill, pick up toiletries for the family and visit the post office to mail off some documents.

When I was done running my errands I decided to treat myself to lunch. There was a pizza place our children loved to order from so I thought I would stop in for the lunch special. The kids always ordered just cheese pizza but I was a meat lovers fan. Now I could have what I wanted, two large slices topped with pepperoni, sliced Italian sausage, ham and bacon and a can of soda on the side for less than seven bucks. I went inside the pizzeria, placed my order then stepped back outside to enjoy the surprisingly mild Florida early afternoon sun. This pizzeria was located in a part of our sleepy little town of Ocoee where there was a strip mall of Central and South American businesses.
I watched as people went about their daily business going in and out of the shops and stores. There was a gentleman carrying a back pack that walked past me and said hello in Spanish. I returned his salutation and looked to my left as he made his way to the other side of the plaza. A new model black Camaro with dark tinted windows sat running in a parking space ten feet away from me. Eventually a woman exited wearing red pumps, a tight top and a snug short skirt. We made eye contact and she greeted me semi-seductively as she passed. I responded politely in Spanish but didn’t look to my right to see her from the back. Being a married father of six with a history of promiscuity in my pre-married life I knew now how to avoid temptation. I didn’t want to make a new friend, not a female one anyway, that might equal divorce and separation from the family I loved.

Just about the time I finished passing my test, the cook waved at me from inside the pizzeria. My order was ready. I paid, tipped and exited the small restaurant. Just then the woman was walking back to her car; there was no need for us to speak a second time. She did however have many other admirers, male workers and patrons alike stood with their tongues wagging out of their mouths as they tried to get a glimpse of her lady parts as she sat back down into her vehicle. As I walked to my minivan and put my lunch inside the same fellow I spoke to earlier called out to me.

At first I thought the man wanted a couple of dollars so I started looking for loose bills and spare change. That wasn’t it, he was trying to make it to a friends house so that he could find work. He explained to me that he had arrived in Florida from Alabama two days prior and he was just trying to find his way to his friend’s house. He gave me a brief description of where he thought he needed to go and asked around to other people if they knew where he was describing. I wanted to help the man but was leery of placing a man in my vehicle with a backpack and suitcase. After trying to figure out where he was going and hearing his story I stopped short of patting him down.
He was a Mexican migrant worker just trying to find labor, a trust came over me and I told him we would search until we found his friend’s home. As we drove I told him that I had to make sure that he meant me no harm before I allowed him into me vehicle.
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to rob me or something.”
“No, I just want to get to work. God Bless you for helping me. Plus, who would try to rob you?!”
We shared a laugh because I am a rather stout guy weighing 260lbs and can bench press 515lbs. But I explained to him my apprehension.
“You see I am a very cautious, God fearing man now. Many years ago I may have been the robber so I am not naturally trusting. I was once the wolf but I am now the sheep, here to serve my fellow man, but I can’t afford to put myself in danger or harms way because I am responsible for raising and supporting a large family.”
I went on to explain to him that I wanted to do no harm to anyone else in defense of myself or my family either. So I try to avoid bad situations that may cause me to use force against another. He in return offered me words of encouragement and support.
“You know my mother told me that people like you will be Blessed because of what you do for others. Thank you so much for helping me today.”

For the second time he offered me money and I again turned it down explaining to him how we should do things out of the goodness of our hearts and for the opportunity to assist someone in need. My joy came from being able to help someone. We went on to share about our families as we pulled into another shopping center where many people of our community originating from south of the boarder shopped and did business. We asked two ladies in the parking lot if they knew where our destination might be and they helped by pointing us in the right direction. We drove on to a trailer park community that my family and I passed often taking our kids to ball practice or high school. We sometimes made uniformed comments about what we thought was a run down community where they made meth and sold other drugs. Once inside, driving around trying to find his friend’s home I saw that there were families living in there, hardworking families just trying to survive.
Finally we found our destination and he exited the vehicle thanking me profusely. I wished him well and he waved as I pulled off slowly. I thought to myself how my new friend and his people were depicted in the media and by our current government. Rapist, murderer, this man was neither, he was just a hardworking family man like me doing far more difficult work than I had ever done in my life. He told me how he did back breaking concrete work in Mexico for thirty dollars a day. Then we talked about the roofing work he would be doing in Central Florida. More back breaking labor that he would travel miles to get so that he could provide for his family. It was hot and tough but he could make five times as much a day and a day’s labor could provide his family with a month of groceries back home.

Are these people stealing our jobs? A job I pray my children would never have to do just to make a living more less travel hundreds of miles to obtain. Is this an invasion? Is he an invader? The same people who complain about his presence in our country are the same ones who profit off of him being here through the cheap labor he provides and the quality work he turns in. The people working the fields and groves have it just as bad or worse. Many people fleeing their homes in Central and South America aren’t doing it just to make more money or have a better life. They are doing it to escape persecution, murder, starvation or other forms of death.

There is a crisis at our southern boarder and no we can’t let everyone into our country. There should be proper vetting, processing of asylum claims and the deportation of criminals, but we should not vilify a whole race of people because of our fear or ignorance of them and their plight. Our God wants us to show compassion and love to the less fortunate, not label them as invaders of our fair land of opportunity. I didn’t state the name of my new friend in this writing because unfortunately to us Americans so many of these people are nameless and faceless. We need to dehumanize them so that we can justify treating them so inhumanly. It is odd that this invasion of invaders we fear so much, in many ways is what makes and keeps America great.

My Small Blessing:
Not only did I feel the euphoria we receive from giving to others or doing something kind. My heart was warmed with love as I prayed after our encounter. Then as I exited my vehicle after returning home I could see that my new tire had a slow leak and was going flat. I thought to myself, I was going to drive that van to my part time job later that evening and if I had denied that man help, done my errands and just come home that tire would have gone flat without me knowing it. Because I was helping someone, it kept me out a little longer and I could recognize the issue with the tire and get it replaced. That good deed saved me a tow, money and being tardy for work. Our good deeds sometimes benefit us in ways we can’t recognize initially but benefit from greatly.

---