Where I Came From Maria Arreola

I remember waking up to my mother sobbing over the kitchen table, “he is not coming; we have to go.” Her voice broke and she looked at me like a baby bear lost in the wild. I was eight years old and I didn't understand what she meant. I went back to bed and laid down wondering where we were going and why my father was not coming back.

The next day, we packed a couple things and my uncle drove us to the bus station. Honestly, I was excited. I had never been in a bus or anywhere else outside our little town. I remember my grandmother’s blessing and my grandfather’s warm kisses as he caressed our heads, trying to keep a smile on his face with his beautiful watery blue eyes. Then the bus driver made the last call and we boarded the bus, took our seats, and waved goodbye as the bus backed up from the station’s parking lot…

…Everything was different; the city life was fast, and everyone ran around in a hurry, always worried about the time and how it was late for lunch, late for picking up kids from school, late for doing laundry and prepping dinner.

Then one night, my mother said she was coming to Texas to see what my father was up to and why he could not come back with us. My father had immigrated illegally to the United States to offer us a better life. Instead, we ended up following him and working to help him give us a better future. Anyway, that night my mother left and she said she would be back soon, but the next day the neighbor came and brought dinner. She said to go to bed and to lock the door. The next morning, she brought breakfast and told us to get ready for church. We did as she said and we walked alone to hear the mass service. When we returned, our house was empty, we were alone, hungry and confused. Our mother and father had left and we did not know when they were coming back or if they were coming back at all. That evening, the neighbor came back and she said that mother had called. She had sent a money gram saying it was for groceries; she also said someone would pick us up and take us with her some time soon. We did not ask questions, we did as we were told, we sat there and waited, and waited and waited a little more. On the third day, we were surprised by my father who somehow had gotten a visa for us so we could cross and move over to Texas with him and our mother. That day is the day my life changed forever. I knew that life as I knew it was over and that everything was going to change as fast or even faster…