|Here is a school picture of Hipolito. Now he is 17.|
I don’t know if my great great great grandfather's mother was even at the dock in London when John Moerschall's ship sailed for New York, but I imagine that they were there...watching. Maybe he stood on the deck and waved just like Hipolito’s family stood watching for him to board the plane. No one talked. Even the little nieces and nephews knew something serious was happening, so they just clung to the skirts of their mothers or rested on their hips. When the plane took off in the air everyone waved and must have been thinking, "When will we ever see each other again?"
Was John Peter Moerschall’s mom also wondering that question? Did she feel like they had said the last spoken words they would ever say to each other?
When the plane was just a speck beyond the clouds, we gathered the children and headed back to the van. The tears flowed and flowed like we had been at a funeral, and in some ways, we had.
I suspect the experience was a little different for Hipoloito. Riding in a plane for the first time would have been exciting. The stewardess would have asked him if he wanted earphones while he was trying to figure out how to manipulate the little TV on the back of the seat in front of him. He probably wondered if he had to pay for the coke he was given for free, with ice, even. Maybe his thoughts lingered on the sad goodbyes but soon he would have been looking ahead to what it would be like in America. He would attend the Texas School for the Deaf in Austin. He would be surrounded by deaf people and high tech equipment. He would get to hug his deaf brother who immigrated 6 years ago. Their first hug in 6 years would last long and also be tear-filled.
What does Hipolito’s future hold? Lots of good things. We will miss him. We already do. But we know God will be with him, guiding him and beckoning Hipolito to make good choices.