TWO DAYS. TWO CONVERSATIONS. And I am the richer for meeting Adolfo and Jose and hearing their stories.
I should backtrack a bit and state that for me to strike up conversations with people I don’t know is not unusual. Such interactions widen my world, broaden my understanding and simply help me learn more about others.
It was little Milan, Adolfo’s one-year-old grandson, who initially drew me to pause during a morning walk through Faribault’s Central Park. Adolfo was pushing Milan in an umbrella stroller when Randy and I crossed paths with them. Milan, with his big brown eyes, black hair and radiant smile, is the essence of cuteness. Cute babies and kids are always a reason to stop and chat.
The pair walk through the park every morning as Adolfo cares for Milan while his mom is at work. I don’t recall whether Mom is Adolfo’s daughter or daughter-in-law. Doesn’t matter. What matters is the deep love Adolfo has for family and his willingness to care for his grandson before heading to work in the afternoon.
ESCAPING COMMUNIST VENEZUELA
I asked Adolfo about his background, what brought him to Faribault. He moved here from Orlando to be with family. But he’s originally from Venezuela. His home country, he said, is not a good place to live. The reason: Communism and violence. He left family behind and desperately wants them here, safe in America.
By that time, little Milan was out of his stroller, pushing it, then dropping to the ground, his pants covered in bits of dried leaves, his tiny hands clasping two Matchbox cars. He is close to walking alone. Milan proved a distraction from the deep pain Adolfo obviously feels separated from his family still in Venezuela.
“We’re so happy to have you here,” I told my new friend. And I genuinely meant that as my heart hurt for this man who has endured so much already.
“God bless you,” Adolfo said, as he made the sign of the cross, held his hands to his heart.
Adolfo repeated our names several times, clearly an effort on his part to remember them. I repeated his, too, and Milan’s, and wished I knew Spanish. Adolfo spoke Spanish to Milan, who is being raised bilingual. What a gift to that little boy with the big brown eyes, with the loving family, with the Grandpa whom I consider kind, caring, loving and brave.
FINDING A WELCOMING NEW HOME IN RURAL MINNESOTA
A day later I met Jose, a young man taking his lunch break at a park near Montgomery. He was working there for the Le Sueur County park system. Jose moved to nearby Le Center 15 years ago, having lived in California, Texas and Mexico. Like Adolfo, Jose is grateful to be here, with family. I told him how happy I am to have him living in Minnesota.
It didn’t take long before he opened up about how much he feels welcomed here, how he’s learned to love our four seasons, even winter. Jose shared about learning to drive in winter. And then he recounted being “baptized by black ice.” He walked onto the unseen ice and found himself flailing backwards. This part of Jose’s story included theatrical actions that left all of us laughing.
What a delightful young man. He’s hardworking, loves his family and likes living in a rural area. To hear that he’s found Minnesotans to be friendly pleases me. The reality is that not everyone welcomes individuals like Jose and Adolfo. I do.
I am the richer for having met these two men, whose life experiences and stories are vastly different than mine. Yet, we are the same. We have families and heartaches and hopes and dreams. That commonality connects us. And so does our humanity.
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
How lucky for all of you that you have crossed paths and met. All of you are made richer with the experience. For all they have suffered and still suffer, your state has made them feel welcome and people like you can make all the difference. I cannot even imagine all they have been through just to have a peaceful and loving life.
That’s the thing. We need to consider all they have endured. Unimaginable challenges. They are individuals with stories of heartbreak and loss, not simply a mass of people.
Audrey, like so many of your posts, this is simply lovely… and such a nice thing to wake up to in the morning. I think you, Randy, Adolfo, Milan and Jose planted a garden on your morning walk. And by morning it blossomed here in California.
Your words are a lovely garden, too. Thank you for appreciating the story I shared here today.
I so loved reading your post this morning. ❤️ I love your big heart. The love, kindness, humor, and acceptance you describe is the kind of world I want to live in.
I want to live in that world, too, Rose. As you well understand, it takes each of us, individually, showing love, kindness, compassion and acceptance rather than the opposite. I do what I can in my way, in my world. I know you do also.
You have such a welcoming spirit…thank you for making others feel so welcome.
Awwww, thank you, Valerie. I absolutely feel the same about you.
Very interesting interactions. I love the baptized by black ice comment. All of us MidWesterners have at least one of those stories!
I had never heard “baptized by black ice.” But I loved the way Jose phrased that.
Beautiful!! Look at that diversity!! Immigrant youth is our future, as is all youth of America. What commonality makes America strong?? The diversity within, of shared experiences – love, hopes, and dreams.
I can’t even begin to tell you how good it felt to have conversations with Adolfo and Jose. Everyone needs to do this, meet people one-on-one and listen to their stories. That doesn’t happen often enough, at least not here in rural Minnesota.