I volunteered at Annunciation House in El Paso, Texas, from 2002-2003. It was an extraordinary year of accompaniment with migrants at the U.S.-Mexico border, one that remains deeply etched in my heart. As a Puerto Rican and Cuban woman, it was especially meaningful to accompany people whose language, culture, and stories resonated so closely with my own. Serving at Annunciation House felt less like “helping” and more like standing with people-listening, learning, and walking alongside them in moments of profound vulnerability and courage.
During that year, we accompanied families, single men, and single women—many of whom were seeking political asylum, applying under the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), or fleeing extreme poverty and violence in their home countries. Some stayed only a short time; others remained longer as they navigated complex legal processes or waited for their next step. Each person arrived carrying a story of loss and hope, fear and resilience. Our role was to offer hospitality, safety, and dignity-simple things that become sacred when someone has been stripped of them elsewhere.
What struck me most was how mutual the transformation was. While I came intending to serve, I was the one continually evangelized by the faith, endurance, and generosity of the people we welcomed. I encountered Christ daily, in shared meals, late-night conversations, prayers spoken across languages, and the quiet courage of parents trying to protect their children. That year taught me that faith is not abstract; it is lived in presence, compassion, and solidarity.
My time at Annunciation House shaped my sense of purpose in lasting ways. It clarified my call to a life centered on accompaniment and service, and it continues to inform my work today as I support those who walk with young adults and marginalized communities. The experience grounded my faith in action and confirmed for me that love, when lived concretely, has the power to heal, restore, and build bridges where walls so often stand.
In the years since, Annunciation House has remained a place of return for me. I have brought college students back with me so they, too, could learn what accompaniment looks like when it is lived day by day. My family and I have also returned several times, continuing to serve, to listen, and to love, because once you are shaped by a community rooted in radical hospitality, you never really leave it behind.
Rosie Chinea Shawver