The Undocumented Americans (One World Essentials)

by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio

He doesn’t understand how people could choose to watch a good man waste away in god’s own house while the seasons continue their course and the church empties out of family each night, leaving him alone, with his thoughts, in the darkness. I don’t say anything.

What I mean to say is: I hope they have a child like me. I hope everyone has a child like me. If I reach every child of immigrants at an early age, I can make sure every child becomes me. And if they don’t, I can be everyone’s child.