Mi gente

Today at church, when they asked if there were any guests or visitors, I noticed a lady waving like she a local celebrity in parade and I chuckled about it. After mass, Father Clint invited us all over to the West hall for a BBQ sandwich and fellowship. Free lunch after church? Hells yeah!

So when we went to the hall, I got my family their sandwiches and then I saw the lady and I went over to say hi. And as soon as I saw her smile, and heard her accent, I knew she was from San Antonio. She was turning 94 on August 27 and was so happy to be in Houston and with her family. Happy to be alive, happy to be a child of the God of love.

So I introduced her to the other San Antonian ex pat who is turning 40 on August 27th. And there we were, three San Antonians who somehow managed to find each other in the crowd after mass.

If you were to ask me to describe my hometown, I would say that San Antonio is a place where if you are standing in line for the port-o-potty at the battle of flowers parade, someone will say "here, mija," and give you toilet paper.

I think it was Dan Cook that said if you lived in San Antonio for 6 months, you would never leave, but somehow, for some reason, that I can't really remember any more, we did.

You get to love Houston, you really do. It's green, it's beautiful and there is so much to do and see and eat. You get to know and love your neighborhood and your friends, and some days, it even feels like a small town. But you have these moments, when things are very clear, when you see what you are missing, and it is more than a raspa in front of the Alamo on a hot day--it is the spirit, the heart, el corazon. It is almost ineffable.

Almost.

It is the people, mi gente, that make it a place you never leave.