Other than when I was an infant, I'm trying to think if I've ever really been in a position where I've relied on someone else to give me drink when I was unable to do so myself. After some contemplation, I do recall a summer when I was the recipient of other people living the call to "Give Drink to the Thirsty..."
I was 14 years old when the Great Flood of 1993 happened. I remember it well because it was the summer before I entered high school.
The summer of '93 was filled with rainfall-so much so that much of the baseball season was canceled and the baseball fields were the first thing to flood. I remember helping a neighbor move her belongings out of the flooded storage unit off of Merle hay Rd, back by the Northend Diner, along the swollen banks of Beaver Creek. We go the phone call late in the evening that the storage unit was not going to dodge the rising creek and needed to be evacuated. My family spent the evening wading through thigh-deep water to help her move boxes of personal belongings to drier ground.
Though my neighbor's belongings escaped the flood waters, she was one of the lucky ones. I remember watching helplessly as an elderly woman stood by in silence watching the rising floodwaters swallow her deceased husband's grand piano-the water was too high to get the truck close enough to load it to safety. There were no words to describe the sadness in her eyes-and we all felt it as the water lapped over the piano keys. then there was the middle-aged gentleman who stumbled over something in the water, dropping the entire box of family photos in his hands, losing the visual images of so many memories to the current of the flood waters. Chasing after them, always a step behind the swirling currents of the creek.
It was heartbreaking to watch people lose so much-personal belongings, houses, loved ones. For a young man it shattered the feeling of invincibility that comes with youth. But it was also a good example of friends and strangers coming to the aide of others in need.
That summer, every nightly news update centered around stories of communities filling sandbags, securing levies, and supporting each other when they gave way. There was sadness, but it was always trumped by love and charity.
But everything got a lot more personal on July 11th, 1993 when the Des Moines Water Works building in Downtown Des Moines succumbed to the relentless flood waters. It was historic and crippling for the city and all those who relied on it for their water. For twelve days the City of Des Moines went without running, clean water. No drinking water, no showers, no laundry, and no flushing toilets! In fact, things became so desperate that the Army National Guard had to set up water stations for people to get fresh drinking water (there was no bottled water to be found anywhere in town-it was all sold out).
I remember standing in line with my dad at one of the many "water stations" set up around town to provide fresh drinking water for city residents. Our water station was at Holy Trinity Church in Beaverdale, only a few blocks from our house. We waited in line to fill up our water containers that would serve as our drinking water...for however long it lasted. Waiting in line was hard. As a 14 year old, I wanted to fill our water containers and go home. The excitement of doing things a "new way" wore off quickly and was replaced with the fear of the unknown. I remember watching those in line before us fill their water containers, wondering to myself, "What if the water runs out? How long will we have to wait to have water to drink?"
There was always enough water for everyone. My parents assured me we were never in danger during the Summer of '93, but it was nice to know that we had people around us who were there to "Give Drink to the Thirsty" when it was needed.
Although we in Central Iowa lived without clean water for two weeks in July of 1993, it's important to remind ourselves that living without clean, drinkable, water is reality for a significant portion of the world population. We don't always see it, but it's there.
After a little reading online at
www.theh2oproject.org (a website dedicated to raising money to build fresh-water wells for people living without access to clean water), I learned that...
- Nearly 1 billion people in the world live without access to clean drinking water...meaning 1/7th of the world population get their drinking water from polluted ponds, rivers, and streams.
- In many countries, women and children bear the burden of fetching water for their family, some walking an average of two hours to fetch drinking water...leaving little time for educational development.
- Preventable water-related disease, like cholera and trachoma, on average kill one child every 15 seconds...that's nearly 5,000 children every day dying because they don't have clean water!
When you consider these statistics, our call to "Give Drink to the Thirsty" becomes more urgent. That's why I find the miracles surrounding Saint Toribio Romo so amazing and fitting this month!
Very little is actually known about the life of Saint Toribio Romo, which adds to the legend of this wonderful Latin American saint.
What we do know is that Toribio grew up in Mexico during the 1900's, in the midst of the Mexican Revolution. At the young age of 21 he received special dispensation from the Vatican to be ordained a priest in the Archdiocese of Guadalajara. It has been written that the young Fr. Toribio had a special devotion to the Eucharist and yearned to celebrate Mass each day. The holiness of the young priest made him a target for those who opposed the Catholic Church during this uncertain time in Mexican history. Ultimately, Fr. Toribio was murdered at the young age of 28 years old. He was shot in the back on Sunday, February 25th, 1928 while in his rectory. He is counted among one of the many martyrs of the Cristero Wars.
Fr. Toribio Romo was canonized in 2000 by Pope John Paul II. He serves as the Patron Saint of Migrant Workers.
The holy life that Fr. Toribio lived has not been lost with time. Rather, as more and more people learn about this young priest, his legend grows and the stories surrounding his intercession become more numerous and amazing. Mention the name Toribio to a Latino friend and you're sure to hear plenty of these stories explained.
Saint Toribio Romo's legend begins with the thousands of migrant workers who make their way from Mexico to the United States each year in search of jobs. The journey to the U.S. is difficult and for every one migrant who successfully crosses the border, there are hundreds who fail-some losing their lives in the process.
And this is the setting of my favorite story of Saint Toribio Romo's miraculous intercession.
The year was 2006 and Luciano Gonzalez, a migrant worker from Teocatilche, Mexico, and two other men traveled from their homes in Colorado in search of work. After a difficult journey the men finally found themselves in the United States, but they were helplessly lost in the moldering sun of the Sonoan Desert in Arizona. After two days of aimlessly walking without water, the men could find little reason to continue on. With no sight of water in any direction, the men were prepared to fall victim to the relentless desert sun. It was in that moment that a miracle happened!
In that moment when all hope seemed lost, a shadowy figure appeared before the three men. The figure directed them to an ocean that seemed to appear and stretch for miles before the three thirsty migrants. With tears of joy the men staggered to the ocean of water that had appeared, splashing in its water and quenching their thirst. As for the shadowy figure? Luciano got a glimpse of the young man as they walked by him to get a drink-he was a priest but his face was unfamiliar and he said nothing as the men passed, only offering a gentle smile of encouragement.
When Luciano later told his wife of the ordeal, she whispered in amazement that it must have been Satin Toribio Romo-she had been praying that he would help her husband and his travel companions arrive safely in Colorado. So upon Luciano's retun to Mexico, he and his wife traveled to Santa Ana de Guadalupe, the hometown and resting place of Saint Toribio's relics. To Luciano's amazement, the pictures of young Fr. Toribio displayed around the shrine revealed the same face that had so gently guided Luciano and his friends to the ocean in the desert.
It gives you goose bumps doesn't it!
As we reflect on our Christian call to Give Drink to the Thirsty this month, may the story of Saint Toribio Romo give each of us the courage needed to reach out to those who struggle to acquire to most basic of human needs-water, food, and shelter.
Saint Toribio Romo...Pray for Us!
Thanks to all who filled out Mercy Tokens this month! Here are some of the fruits of mercy found written on these tokens: 
