A Courageous Mother Who Crossed the Border

When I wake up in the morning and see my mother, I find every characteristic of a perfect woman in her. She is a strong willed, confident, and attractive woman. She has wavy, black hair and dark brown eyes. Her face has a slightly rectangular oval, which makes her look both gentle and strong. She has high, arching eyebrows and a slightly turned up nose. Her chin is smooth and luminous. She is not tall, about five feet, but she is slim and graceful.

My mother is an outspoken woman. In her tiny appearance lies an extraordinary fortitude story. Bravery is a virtue that not a lot of people possess, but my mother has proven her courageousness. Before my mother gave birth to me, she lived in San Luis Potosí, Mexico. Her family lived in poverty, and every bit of food was valued and cherished at their table. It’s hard to tell whether my mother’s decision to migrate to the United States was an act of courage or impatience. She certainly had no bright future at home, her parents could barely afford used clothes from the town’s thrift shop. She certainly wanted to find a way to turn her life around and provide the needs for her family, so she decided to come to “The land of opportunities.”

Eight men and my mother wanted to work in the U.S., so they had to travel by bus 100 miles from southern Mexico. But the next 200 miles they had to walk through the desert in order to cross into the U.S. illegally. It was late July. Temperatures reached 110 degrees in the shade of southern Mexico, and several notches higher in the desert sun. While the bus traveled through the dirt road, my mother stood frozen in the old musty seat. Her throat constricted. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to ret...

... middle of paper ...

...breathing and feel the warm air dance across her bloody face. After a long time the eight men and she started walking towards a hill, slowly and quietly, in a single line formation. Behind the hill was the forty-eight state of the United States, Arizona. It was still dark as they climbed up, so they knew they had to be careful with each step they took. As they reached the peak they climbed down under trees and bushes. Taking the first steps on the Desert of Arizona.

The gentle early morning breeze blew across their faces like the whispering winds sway the trees. They had been walking all night long, and finally made it across the border. My mother’s hair was ruffled up, her nose had a steady trickle of blood running into her open mouth. She grunted softly as she lifted her hand up. Tears streamed down her eyes. She knew she had finally made it to her destination.