Day 1: History

Ruben Garcia, the director of Annunciation House, led us (me and 12 other volunteers staying here for ten weeks) in orientation today. He’s one of the founders of the organization and reviewed the history and work of the house. 

It's a shelter that offers hospitality to the migrant, refugee, and economically vulnerable people of El Paso. In 1977, Garcia and four others belonging to the Catholic Diocese got together to think about how they could experience the Gospel more deeply. They loaned out the second floor of a red brick building in the center of the city and spent hours talking about what type of service work they could engage in. 

Garcia said that they were all aware of the fact that God didn't identify with the five of them directly, but instead with the poor and less privileged. They wanted to place themselves within the poor, to feed the hunger they all had to find purpose, meaning, and depth in their daily lives. 

"Wouldn't it be great if for a moment we could all do something with more meaning?" he asked us. 

Then he quoted Mother Teresa saying that the poor are our opportunity for holiness. I inverted it for fun: Without the poor, we will never know our own holiness. 

In 1978, Garcia and his cohort opened the doors of Annunciation House to their first migrant. It was a 17-year-old boy who was walking the streets. The second man they offered shelter to was also walking the streets. He told them that he wasn’t allowed to stay in another shelter because he didn’t have papers. There was no organization in El Paso that served the undocumented community. From this moment on, Annunciation House had a direction. 

The shelter had no fanfare, no press conference, no sign, and no furniture. But slowly, with the help of generous donations and word of mouth, it became a refuge for people fleeing Sandinistas, guerrilla warfare, and violence. Immigrants would knock on the door of the brick building and be given food, guidance and resources. More beds were ordered, and more houses around the city were bought. 

The mission has continued, fueled and energized by volunteers like Garcia in the early days—people hungry to live with purpose, meaning and depth. 

Garcia answered his phone numerous times while lecturing us. Immigrants, volunteers, construction workers, and city planners all needed to talk through various logistics (Garcia explained that the organization is almost done with a three-year remodel of the original shelter downtown). The people calling often apologized for interrupting him. 

“I appreciate people who bug me,” Garcia laughed. 

During our morning meeting, he got a call that a shipment of Johnson & Johnson vaccines was arriving for the guests. We all cheered. 

The warehouse that we are staying in for orientation —Casa del Refugiado—is full of migrants that the U.S. government has released from custody. It’s the biggest refugee center in the United States. 

(The El Paso Detention Center.)