We should encourage people who have lived here peacefully for

The words of Luis Gutierrez, “We should encourage people who have lived here peacefully for years to earn legal status over time,” rise like a calm yet powerful tide — gentle in tone, but mighty in meaning. They speak not merely of policy, but of justice, compassion, and recognition — the sacred recognition of human dignity. For what is a nation, if not a gathering of souls seeking peace under the same sky? And what is peace, if it is denied to those who have lived it faithfully among us? Gutierrez’s words remind us that time itself is a witness — that years of peace, work, and belonging should not be met with exclusion, but with embrace.

Since the dawn of civilization, wise rulers have understood that community thrives not by fear, but by inclusion. The ancients welcomed those who tilled the land, guarded the city, or contributed to the common good, regardless of birthplace. In every age, those who chose peace over conflict, labor over idleness, and cooperation over rebellion earned their place among the people. Gutierrez’s vision is no different. He calls us to remember an eternal principle: belonging is earned not through the accident of birth, but through the steadfast act of living rightly.

Look to the story of Jose Antonio Vargas, who came to America as a child, unaware that he was undocumented. For decades, he lived as a journalist, telling the stories of others, contributing to the truth of the nation that did not yet call him its own. He won awards, educated the public, and uplifted countless voices. Yet he remained in the shadows — a man peaceful and productive, yet without the blessing of legal recognition. Gutierrez’s words echo for men and women like Vargas, who, through their long and faithful presence, have already earned the right to legal status, not by decree, but by the quiet nobility of their conduct.

There is a deeper moral law at work beneath these words — one older than any constitution or statute. It is the law of gratitude and fairness. When a person plants their roots in the soil of a nation, works its fields, raises their children, and respects its peace, that person becomes part of the land’s living story. To deny them a path to recognition is to deny the very fruit their hands have helped grow. It is to look upon a tree that has long borne fruit in your orchard and say, “You are not mine.” But justice, the ancients teach us, demands that we honor both deed and time, not just title and origin.

Gutierrez’s wisdom also carries a warning for the people: beware of forgetting the humanity of those among you. Nations are not strengthened by exclusion, but by the wise integration of those who already belong in spirit. Every person who lives peacefully among us contributes to the harmony of the whole. To shut them out is to weaken the very foundation of community. But to offer them a path toward legal recognition — slow, deliberate, and just — is to weave them into the sacred fabric of the nation, binding heart to heart and purpose to purpose.

Let this truth be a beacon to future generations: compassion and practicality are not enemies, but allies in the building of a lasting civilization. A people who reward peace with opportunity teach their children the power of goodness. They show that law can be merciful, and mercy can be lawful. In doing so, they forge not just a stronger country, but a nobler humanity.

And so, the teaching of Luis Gutierrez is this: those who live in peace among you are already your neighbors, already your fellow builders of the dream. Recognize them. Encourage them. Give them the chance to earn legal status through honest labor and faithful living. The lesson for us all is clear — build bridges, not walls; extend hands, not judgments. In your own life, look upon those who seek belonging not with suspicion, but with understanding. For every peaceful soul given a place in the light adds another flame to the eternal fire of the human spirit — a fire that burns brighter when all are welcome to its warmth.