My Illegal Immigrant Goddaughter
For the record, I do not have daughter. I am blessed to know this Vietnamese mother daughter who manages my friend's bar. They are both illegal immigrants.
Both mother and daughter work hard to manage my friend's bar. The business is not great as it only opens to regular customers. In the two years that I know them; they do not drink or smoke. The mother is very protective of the daughter. The daughter only stays behind the bar counter, while the mother mingles with customers at the bar floor. Since the bar only serves regular customers, everyone knows everyone. Therefore, everyone is at their best behaviour. As far as I know, no one tried to take advantage of them.
Over the years, I begin to feel attached to the daughter. I would teach her English and let her tell me about her dreams. She would do her best to speak English with me. If the conversation got deep, we use Google translate to get our message across. When she tells me about her aspiration in becoming a barista, her eyes sparkle. Her smile is always contagious. Whenever I had a long day, I look forward to seeing her.
Deep down, I wondered what kind of future does she has? Today is her 16th birthday, and she has quit school for two years. When the girl moved to my country to join her mother, my friend paid English lessons for them. I have seen textbooks at the bar counter. Many customers also treated them well; the customers have given them both tips and gifts.
My friend and the mother told me that the daughter is happier and receptive to learn. Yet, I cannot see how she can thrive as an illegal. Eventually she must return to Vietnam. What I hope is that she can acquire sufficient skills to do well when she is back in her home country. I do not know when, but I have already treated her like my own daughter.
I know it is wrong to harbour illegals; they are here to make an honest living. My friend had tried to hire locals; they are either ineffective or would quit. When the mother started to manage the business, the bar becomes cleaner and busier. No more sticky floors. When I go to the bar, I feel welcome and accepted. My limit is only two beers.
As I am writing this, I still cannot see their future. Anyone who works hard for an honest living deserve all the happiness that they worked for. I just hope they can make enough money and improve their life here or back in Vietnam.