From Santiago to Missouri

July 4, 2025

I'm walking across the grass to a picnic table. A car drives by - it's Cathy, our "chipper shipper," as we affectionately call her. She rolls down the window and hollers, "Hi, Lily!" I turn around, smile, and wave back, surprised to see her on the 4th of July. 

I normally work a half-day on the 4th because my husband is home and can take care of the kids. We don't have family in town. Later tonight, we'll go somewhere elevated to see "other people's money go up in smoke," as Trey says.

I'm a Chilean immigrant. I was born in Santiago, Chile the same year the new Code of Canon Law came out. Growing up, my dad's job required that we live in different places, never setting down roots in one particular place. We lived in the Middle East for 3 years, in Spain for 3 years, and I spent 2 years in Japan before coming to the United States in 2001. My parents stayed a few years longer.

I am keenly aware of the struggles that immigrants face. It's hard to be a newcomer in a strange place. You bring with you all the emotional baggage of the past. Often, you don't know the language. You are unfamiliar with the culture. People look at you weird when you don't catch on to a local idiosyncrasy. You want to belong, but you don't want to lose where you came from. 

Our Lady of Guadalupe

When he was a newcomer to Japan, my dad experienced first-hand the sense of isolation and helplessness that comes when you don't know where you are, you don't know where you're going, and you can't ask anyone for help, except Our Lady of Guadalupe. That story has become part of our family’s spiritual memory—one of many moments when Our Lady made her presence known.

The sense of despair and isolation my dad experienced at that moment makes me think of the disconnection and loneliness that were the fruits of the moral turmoil caused by the radical feminism that arose in 1960s. Just a few decades after Pope Paul VI's prophetic words in Humanae Vitae, the effects of sin on modern culture would prove him right.

When the new Code of Canon Law was promulgated nine months after I was born, the 1917 Code ceased to be in effect, removing the strict requirement that all women must wear veils in church. No one said veils were forbidden; they simply became optional.

In my opinion, that was a step in the right direction. What good is it if women are wearing veils but disregarding the natural law?

Years later, it's 2010 and I've already started this business. As I get on Catholic forums, I notice a certain pattern of conversations. "Veil wars," someone calls them. I cringe. As someone who has been exposed to many cultures, I think, “Can’t we all respect each other?”

Missouri

I watch Cathy’s car drive off and I let out a happy sigh. It’s a good day to see a friend.

Turning back to the picnic table, I am ready to continue writing this post. I set down my phone, my notebook, and my lemonade. As I go to sit down, the entire table shifts and I watch as my chilled lemonade crashes to the ground and gives the grass a taste of its sweetness. I think, “That sweetness was supposed to be mine,” letting out another sigh.

My guardian angel kindly whispers in my ear and says something about losing weight. Hmph.

I open my notebook and read the notes on the page. The word “diversity” jumps out at me. That word gets a bad rap in some circles. Some think it implies we should encourage other people in their sins.

I take out my phone and dial my brother, Sebastian. It was fun visiting different places with my siblings so many years ago. We did complain about all the walking, but those were beautiful days. I remember Bodrum, Riyadh, Dubai, Jeddah, Istanbul, Venice, Rome, Florence, Nice, Nimes, Paris, Madrid, Seville, Lisbon, Avila, Segovia and Lourdes. My favorite place in Spain was Asturias. I loved Tokyo, Yokohama and Guam.

But my favorite place of all is Missouri.

My brother answers the phone and I ask him to tell me a little bit about diversity. He lives in Arizona. We talk for a bit and we agree that it’s important to listen to people who come from different backgrounds and have had different experiences. It helps us grow.

He notes that some people who react negatively to people from other countries may be coming from a place of fear – fear that certain comforts will be taken away from us.

We agree that it is our duty to help our fellow immigrants become who the Lord has created them to be. It’s not about enabling victims, but empowering children of the same Father to live in the fullness of their dignity.

The Heart of God is to Redeem and Restore

Fatherhood has been on my mind lately. Our parish has a new pastor. He is a good spiritual father. He tells us the truth, even when it makes us uncomfortable. He has given me several things to think about in the last few months.

Having a good spiritual father in the parish has made me realize what a huge loss it was to have so many clergy be affected by the culture and fail to lead decisively and with clarity amid the sexual revolution. We need to learn from our mistakes.

We are all called to conversion. When Jesus encountered those who suffered, he didn’t tell them to “offer it up.” He saw their broken humanity, allowed his heart to be moved, and healed them from their sins.

He also healed their physical and emotional ailments.

The Goodness of God

God is very, very good. Yes, he is full of surprises—and I carry a deep sense of gratitude for the places I’ve lived, the cultures I’ve known, and most of all, for the chance to call this country home. This country has given me the freedom to live my faith openly, raise a family, and build a business rooted in beauty and reverence.

It hasn’t been easy, but that’s the nature of true belonging: it asks something of you. And in return, it gives you the chance to grow, to give back, and to be free.

I pick up my broken Styrofoam cup and head to the car. It's a beautiful day to be free. 

Thank you for making this beautiful country a place I can truly call home.