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A rare look at how the Little Sisters of the Poor serve in the shadow of the Navajo Nation

A slowly building breeze gently sweeps across the high plains, giving rise to a ghostlike dust cloud obscuring where Rt. 66 meets the horizon, while tumbleweeds gleefully bounce along the well-worn pavement like a group of playful children. Nestled midway between the Continental Divide and the Arizona border is the small city of Gallup, affectionately known as the “The Indian Capital of the World” as it lies in the embrace of the Navajo, Zuni, and Hopi lands that surround it. Its sculpted landscape is carved out by time; wind and water form jutting mesas, tangled canyons, and unending plains that are haunted by whispering winds and distant train whistles painting the very portrait of what is “The West.”

In the 1930s and ‘40s a romance began. Gallup became the…

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