An extremely diverse population lives in the region around Washington, DC. The same is true of most metropolitan cities. Anywhere you go you see people of different colors, wearing clothing that doesn't come off the racks at Macy's, and speaking languages other than English. These are obviously people who come to our land from other countries. I am always awed by the courage these people show.

They have left everything known and familiar to them and come to a new country, a country where the language and the culture are quite different. For many of them, it has been a very expensive venture. They have given up daily contact with family and friends. In many instances, they have paid substantial amounts of money to get here. And once here, they are faced with an environment that is frequently quite hostile.

Many of these people are simple folk of the land. But they have had the courage, perhaps born of necessity, to venture like Abraham into a land he did not know. At a minimum, all of us can admire the courage. All of us can ask ourselves: Could I have done the same?

Imagine how you might feel in a city like Washington, or Houston, Los Angeles, Chicago or New York if you came straight out of a tiny village in Columbia or Mexico. The money of your home country is no good and you are unfamiliar with American currency. Shop keepers, bus drivers and restaurant servers are impatient because you struggle to express what you want to buy or where you need to go. You don't know what the food is like or where anything is. You are reduced to a sort of infancy, communicating with gestures, nods and simple sounds. You look different and people stare at you. Many treat you with open hostility. Some take advantage of your vulnerability.

Anyone who has traveled abroad will understand how courageous and daring are the people who come here from other countries. Certainly their motives are many and varied. But consider the men who gather at certain intersections or other high-traffic locations. You've seen them standing around looking at the cars that drive by. Maybe one of them has approached you as you filled your car with gas and asked you if you had any work he could do for you. Would you be touched, as I have been, with the realization that the only thing these people want from us is an opportunity to perform honest labor? Not a hand-out, but work!

Perhaps a recognition of the courage seen in these people will change the way we think of them, softening our view and making us more appreciative of them.