Dear Jimmy,
Your poor uncle is as confused as a termite in a yo yo. We thought we were helping a young couple and at the same time gettin' some needed work done around the place, but now it seems Uncle Orley and I are thick in the middle of the immigration issue.
But aside from being threatened with a fine and going to jail, we're doin' right well.
What happened was this. We've been tryin' to get the barn painted for years now and I was beginnin' to think that it was gonna rot plumb down before we could get it done. We've gone to folks around here and offered to pay them to do the job, but they were just not interested, it seems. To hear them tell it they're all as busy as a one-legged man at a log rollin' contest.
Jim White
One feller came out to look at the job but when he saw what was involved, he said he didn't know much about operatin' a paint brush and left in a hurry. Another one actually started the work but your uncle had to let him go. He was a big, strong feller but couldn't seem grasp the basic essential of gettin' the paint from the bucket to the barn. He quite literally couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a paint brush. Let's just say he could lift a ton but probably couldn't spell it, if you know what I mean.
Well, after quite a spell of tryin' to find somebody to do the job, he decided he'd do it himself. But he ain't as young as he used to be and before the day was over he looked like he'd been beaten with a bag of quarters.
That's when I put my foot down and took the matter into my own hands. I asked the Lord to help me find somebody and it seemed like God answered my prayer at Dollar General. That's where I met Maria. You learn all kinds of things about people in checkout lines. I had a little trouble understanding her at first, but it seems she and her young husband and little baby boy had come here from El Salvador and he was looking for work.
Well, to make a long story short, José did the work for us. He was all over that barn like a hobo on a ham sandwich. Not only did he do a good job, but he was right quick about it, too. The last time I saw Uncle Orley so pleased was when I gave him new snow tires for Christmas. But that's when we started our life of crime.
It seems that José and Maria are in the country illegally. And when we hired them we didn't dream that we could be breaking the law.
Maria tells me they had been trying to get papers for a long time before they left home and even since they arrived here, but they can't get the help they need. I figured that I could give them some assistance, so I called to see what I could do. What I found out is that people have been waitin' for ages to get approval and most of them don't want to get in the system because they are afraid of getting deported before they get approval.
As far as I can tell, the only thing I accomplished is letting the authorities know that Orley and I hired folks who came here without authorization to do some work for us. The lady I talked to seemed pretty frazzled and none too sympathetic when she told me about my criminal wrongdoin'.
Since meetin' Maria and José, I've had to rethink my whole attitude on the subject. To tell the truth, I guess I haven't been too sympathetic myself. I guess you could say I've resented all the changes I see happenin'. I mean, why should I have to push a button for English when I telephone the electric company? This is America, for crying out loud. You would think that people who come here would at least learn to speak English. Well, José and Maria are doin' their dead level best to learn it and have done pretty fair at it.
Thinkin' about Maria and José put me in mind of my great grandma and grandpa on Mama's side. They came here from Hungary, and she never did learn English.
I recon that I've been afraid that with so many Hispanic folks comin' in that America is gonna change from what it has always been. But it just hit me that unless we go back to the days of the Indians, America has always been changin' with the new folks comin' in. If the truth was known, it was probably changin' during the Indian days, too.
This mornin' in my Bible readin' program I read from Matthew about how Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus fled to Egypt because that mean old Herod was tryin' to kill Jesus. For the first time ever I had to wonder if they went there with the proper papers. Then the thought hit me, what if Egypt had deported them?
Well, I guess I won't solve the problem in this letter, but when you get to know somebody who has actually come here to try to start a new life it kinda messes up your prejudices.
You need to come see our newly painted barn. It's beautiful. And, while you're here, you might just look in on your old auntie and uncle, too. We might be in the jailhouse. Hope to see you soon.
Love as always,
Aunt Ida