A Saint’s Journey with Migrants

Every time the boy choked, struggling to breathe during an asthma attack, his mother begged José Gregorio to cure him, to send clean air to heal his lungs.

Life took unexpected turns, bringing crises that forced her to leave her home, her neighborhood, her city, her country. She left everything, or almost everything.In her suitcase, purse, and wallet, she carries a small image of her saint, José Gregorio, who she believes cured her son.

Andrés is 25 years old and, like many migrants, works at whatever jobs he can find. He and his mother, Claudia, traveled after experiencing “hunger in 2016.” He left behind his high school classmates in his final year, his girlfriend, and his karate friends – everything, or almost everything, like his mother. But along with his José Gregorio scapular, worn close to his chest, he also brought his inhaler, just in case, “you never know.”

Walking the Path of Reconciliation, or Way of Conciliation, in the Vatican, they gaze at the horizon, contemplating St. Peter’s Basilica. They don’t immediatly appear to be mother and son. I ask if they live in Italy, but they neither confirm nor deny it, preferring I don’t specify their location.

The rare October sun deepens the color of their skin. They feel lucky, they say, to be in a place so many dream of reaching.

Nobody explains what happened

Mario is from Barquisimeto, but now lives in Spain. He’s a seminarian and a devoted follower of José Gregorio hernández. “I’m here for my entire family,” he says, touching his chest as if in an act of contrition.

When I turn on the camera, he stiffens, tenses, a vein pulsing in his neck. He recounts that when he was two years old, he suffered…