Episcopal Priest Rev. Vidal Rivas Prepares To Standby Guard for 31 Children of Immigrant Parents

In the quiet suburban enclave of Hyattsville, Maryland, Episcopal priest Rev. Vidal Rivas is shouldering a profound and deeply emotional burden as the designated standby guardian for 31 children of immigrant parents.

Amid mounting anxieties over aggressive Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) actions and the precarious future of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Salvadoran nationals under the Trump administration, the 62-year-old cleric is stepping forward to prevent vulnerable families from being shattered.

Operating under Maryland's critical legal framework, which allows parents facing deportation to legally designate temporary caregivers and keep their children out of the state foster care system, Rivas is transforming St. Matthew's Episcopal Church into an active emergency sanctuary.

Drawing directly from his own harrowing survival of the Salvadoran civil war and his firsthand experience sheltering the children of a detained mother earlier this year, Rivas represents a vital human shield against systemic separation.

As escalating immigration enforcement deepens fear and insecurity across immigrant communities nationwide, this extraordinary intersection of faith, law, and grassroots preparedness illuminates the human reality behind shifting federal policies and the resilient safety nets rising to protect our most vulnerable youth.

Vidal Rivas Knows What Standby Care Demands

Rivas and his wife cared for children aged one and four during their mother's four months in ICE detention. They did not initially recognise her when she returned. Rivas' wife slept beside them for comfort, and he assumed more childcare when she became ill.

'We now feel like the children's grandparents, because we still have a close relationship with her, looking after her and looking after the children,' Rivas said.

Rivas serves at St. Matthews Episcopal Church in suburban Washington. A sign inside reads 'We love migrants' in English, Spanish and Haitian Creole. 'I feel a lot of responsibility, and a very heavy weight,' he said.

Rivas began encouraging parents to name him as a standby guardian last year, shortly after President Donald Trump returned to office. Nearly all are Salvadoran, like him, and fear the Trump administration could end Temporary Protected Status for roughly 170,000 immigrants from El Salvador.

Maryland Law Gives Families a Temporary Safeguard

Under Maryland law, parents may designate a standby guardian if immigration authorities arrest them. That person automatically becomes the child's legal guardian for six months, with a possible extension approved by a judge.

Maryland revised its law during Trump's first term to help keep children of detained immigrants out of foster care.

Parents of 29 other children have named Rivas as their standby guardian. Two further families are making similar arrangements, but the number of children in those families was not provided.

If enforcement increases in Hyattsville, where more than a third of residents are Hispanic, Rivas could be asked to care for several children at once.

'It's not easy for parents to know that they could be arrested and their children could be left [in the U.S.] without them,' he said.

Vidal Rivas Sees TPS Uncertainty Deepen Fear

Congress created TPS in 1990 for immigrants unable to return safely to countries affected by conflict, natural disasters or other extraordinary conditions. Congress designated El Salvador that year during its civil war and renewed protection in 2001.

The Trump administration has rolled back TPS protection for more than a dozen other groups. Hours before the Salvadoran designation was due to expire in early September, the Department of Homeland Security said beneficiaries would continue to 'retain protection including work authorisation'. An announcement about the programme's future would come 'at the appropriate time', it added.

The notice preserved protection for now but did not settle what would happen next. 'Many people have left the church for other cities, and some have returned to their country,' Rivas said. 'People are in fear and become insecure.'

Rivas grew up in El Salvador around the 1979 military coup and ensuing civil war. At 27, he decided to become a Catholic priest. He says he was detained, beaten and hospitalised for advocating social justice and human rights.

He came to the United States in 1998, later converted to the Episcopal Church and joined St. Matthew's in 2008. Church members have donated clothes and toys, while other churches and immigration organisations are helping families arrange standby care.

If more children arrive, Rivas intends to open a church bank account for childcare donations. 'I'm going to keep doing it as much as I can,' he said.