One day while I was eating lunch at the Subway at the bus station in downtown Brownsville, an older man approached and asked if he could sit with me. I was alone, so I quickly welcomed him to my table. I asked him if he wanted something to eat, and he responded graciously by saying that he had money. We talked for a while and he began to tell me about his life, and that he lived in a small rented apartment close to downtown. His name was Pascual.

He said his wife had passed away some years ago, and now his only son and daughter had pretty much forgotten about him. He said that what he feared most was dying alone, and that was the reason why he would go out daily into the streets and sit at the bus station — often just to find refuge from the heat. His hope, he said, was that if he died in the street, at least someone would notice. While feeling sad, I did my best to listen and comfort him.

When we said goodbye, I asked him why he chose to sit with me. He replied with a smile that I seemed like a kind person. Humbled by the experience, I returned to the chancery and went upstairs to the chapel. I prayed for him in front of the Blessed Sacrament and told the Lord Jesus that I knew it was him whom I had met at the bus station.

I was reminded of what the late Msgr. Pat Doherty, the first pastor I worked for in 1985, would often say: “What is the use of spending so much time in front of the Blessed Sacrament if you don’t recognize the Lord Jesus present in your brother or sister?”

For some years now, every other week I stop and eat at this Subway, which is a short distance from the Chancery. My favorite sandwich is the tuna with cucumbers, purple onion and jalapeños. The bus station is right across the street from the Immaculate Conception Cathedral, where I am one of the deacons, serving with the Oblate Fathers of Mary Immaculate.

Downtown Brownsville is always active and buzzing with people. Next to the bus station and the cathedral is a huge plasma center. People line up early in the morning and wait in line for long hours. Both the bus station and the cathedral are a block away from Gateway International Bridge.

When you arrive at the bus station, no matter what time, it is always full of people. As they sit there waiting, I often wonder about where they are from and what their destination might be. Often there is excitement when one travels somewhere, but here you can sense worry and fear in the many reluctant faces.

Among other people I’ve encountered was a young lady, 19 years old and six weeks pregnant, by the name of Janie. She was traveling to the interior of Mexico to live with her only aunt. Her parents were no longer speaking to her, and the boyfriend was pressuring her to have an abortion. She looked lonely, devastated and frightened.

On another occasion, a brother and sister, both released by Customs and Border Patrol and on their way to Indiana to live with relatives, told me their story of leaving El Salvador after their mom and dad were killed. The young woman also told me the horrifying episode of being raped during the journey. I couldn’t help but cry with her, and then I prayed with them both while questioning how it is that some people can be so evil.

Another lady named Panchita told me that she loved to hear the cathedral bells at noon every day. While making the sign of the cross and with tears in her eyes, she said, “It’s like heaven is imploring and God is reminding us that we are not alone, and he is here with us.”

In downtown Brownsville — I imagine it’s the same in downtown McAllen or any major city — it is extremely difficult to ignore those marginalized by society. As Catholics, it is also difficult to ignore the Gospel message of seeing Christ more fully in everyone and loving them the same way God loves us. After all, we are all brothers and sisters, created in his own image and likeness.

The Gospel of Matthew clearly reminds us: “And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’” (25:40)

The strange thing is that when I’ve gone back to Subway, I’ve looked for Don Pascual and can’t seem to find him. I often wonder if he is still alive, or if he’s gone home to be with his wife and is no longer lonely walking the streets.

There is a saying from St. John Chrysostom that says, “If you cannot find Christ in the beggar at the church door, you will not find Him in the chalice.”

I absolutely have no doubt you will always find the Lord Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament at the altar. However, I invite you to come and meet him in downtown Brownsville, at the bus station or outside the cathedral.