I look back at my younger siblings, Maria and Juana, who are twins, their relentless pleas for food aimed at my mother vexing me greatly. My mother has drove for hours, not stopping to allow us to relieve ourselves or obtain food. I harshly silence them, understanding that they are only fortifying the stress on her to drive to the United States Border quicker. Glancing at her, the composed face, she constantly places on during trying situations only belied by the incessant tapping of her foot on the bottom of the car and the furrowing of her brows. Slanting my back to watch the scenery from the window, my mind wandering back to our home in Mexico. I reminisce about the memories there, a gentle smile fixed on my face when I remember my childhood
