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Foreword

COLONIA JUAREZ, a Mormon hamlet nestling among the rolling foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains, occupies an inconspicuous spot on the map of northern Chihuahua in old Mexico. Yet perhaps few towns of its size are better known. From it have gone those who carried its name to all parts of the world.

A stranger sighting it for the first time from the brow of the hill is surprised. The green, compact mass of trees, half hiding neat homes; the glinting glimpses of river waters through them, is a startling change from surrounding desert and dusty roads, mesquite, sand, and chaparral. Wondering who could have founded a village in this out-of-the-way little valley, the traveler drops down the winding road, along a shady street to the heart of the town. He is at once impressed by the personality of the place and charmed by its spirit of friendliness and hospitality.

To those who live there, Colonia Juarez is a loved spot, a place to which to return expectantly and eagerly. To those who once lived there but left, it is an unforgettable spot, remembered as a symbol of peacefulness, of neighborliness, of unity, bringing nostalgic longings for a return of old times.