Persecution and Abandonment

Last updated on: March 25, 2016 at 8:13 pm by Father Pablo Migone

Persecution and Abandonment 2016-03-25T20:13:21-05:00 Father Pablo Migone

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

On a day like today twenty-one years ago I arrived to the United States with my family. I wrote the essay below in 2001 for a creative writing class in college where I describe my experience returning to my house in Peru in 2000 after my father had repurchased it.

Built in 1970 when my parents married, my parents sold the house in 1993 and bought it back in 2000. From 2000 to 2010 we owned the house once again and three major events happened at the house which I will forever remember: my sister’s wedding reception in 2003, my father’s death in 2004 and my ordination reception in 2009.

As I crossed the rotting, once magnificent brown and varnished gateway from the desolate, unpaved road, I miraculously stepped back roughly ten years in time. I once again entered the house where I had spent the first eight years of my life. After ten years of it being abandoned, left for roaches to rule over its floor and spiders to rule over its ceiling, I had returned.

Struggling flowers attempted to bloom as I strolled down the walkway between the gate and the main door. The buzzing bees labored persistently around the flowers that emitted a peculiar sweet smell despite their lack of upkeep. The bees attacked the purple and crimson flowers while leaving me unharmed. I approached the door and once again heard its unique sound when the key turned inside it. I turned the key quickly while I pulled the door towards me, creating a familiar low-pitched click signaling that the door was ready to be opened. The door swung open revealing a familiar yet distant world to me. Humidity and naphthalene rose through my nostrils as they escaped the house while I went past the door into the living room. It seemed from the odor that I had actually entered a closet with old clothes that had been stored for decades.

A sudden darkness overtook the house as I explored its hallways. The sound of my feet on the cold and dusty tiles resounded in every corner as I continued my rediscovery of the building. I took a right into my room. I gently closed my eyes and walked around the magnificent room feeling the air go past my face as if it were greeting me after longing for my return. In that stillness, I opened the doors of the wardrobe and the drawers of the desk, disturbing the peace of the air by creating unpleasant screeching sounds of wood rubbing against wood. I examined the delicate work of termites inside the furniture. They had done an astonishing task for the past ten years to rot the fine furniture. Tiny white larvae oozed out of holes in the wood, so I immediately slammed the drawers shut as a small shock of disgust ran down my spine. The drawers were not opened again until a carpenter came to restore the furniture.

As I continued walking through the house, I began hearing voices from the past. The sounds came from a distant place and slowly came clear to me, as when a radio is finally able to contact a station and play its music. I heard laughter of children from my seventh birthday party as they enjoyed a puppet show, while a giant Smurf paraded around the backyard with a long line of children celebrating behind him. The cacophony of parties with many people surrounded me, such as my father’s twenty-fifth year high school reunion when people gathered at the garden of my house to celebrate with fine Peruvian cuisine and Spanish rock and roll music. Voices and sounds of old times zoomed between my ears, as I recalled family reunions with relatives now deceased. Memories impossible to repeat were infused into my thoughts.

At last, I arrived at the pool. Chlorine roamed throughout the enclosed area. The silence in the room haunted my mind. Memories that will never be repeated poured into my senseless mind. My thoughts erupted as I walked near the pool and leaned over to touch the freezing water while the rugged floor penetrated my knees. The silence of the room was foreign to me since it had always been full of splashes and screaming. As I lifted my head from leaning over, goose bumps became visible throughout my body as my eyes roamed unceasingly around the silent room. A gentle buzz that is only heard in utterly silent places began to increase. My mind drifted away as memories engulfed it. My body merely became a lump of material as my mind gradually escaped it. It was unbelievable I had returned. Neither my mind nor body could handle the joy and pleasure I derived from returning to my house in Peru.

I continued the rediscovery of my abandoned building. I stepped outside into the garden where my swings had been and where I had spent countless hours running and sprinting while playing childish games. I found that there was no giggling of children at play or squeaking of rusty swings.

As I looked through the window into the family room, I heard fragments of weeping from April of 1991, when in that room my mother announced that we would leave Peru due to my father’s unjust persecution by terrorists. We would leave in a few days without telling a soul, and we could only take one suitcase containing basic necessities. We would abandon the house without any plans of returning to it.

As I turned away from the window, I quickly noticed that silence had also ruled over my house for ten years along with creeping roaches and spiders that had slowly and quietly conquered the house. The three had a vast dominion to oversee. The silence had to be challenged with liveliness as the roaches and spiders had been already challenged with pesticide. As the last rays of the sun reflected on the windows of the house, and the salty breeze of the ocean glided through the garden, I reminded myself that soon I would be living once again in this house. I also noticed that the ten years that I had abandoned it would only be a gap in time, which would soon be forgotten both by myself and by the house, since its past splendor would reemerge.

Uncategorized

Previous Post

April 21, 2012

Praises of the Easter Light

Next Post

April 28, 2012 Confessional Angels

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Article Catholic Lima Christmas Commentary History Homily Immigration martyrs Meditation Pope Reflection Saint Story Uncategorized

Select a Month September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 January 2010 June 2009 September 2008 August 2008

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who asked Jesus, "What is truth?"

Select your answer to see how you score.

Nicodemus Pilate Herod Caiaphas