She’s never been able to buy them a toy or a birthday cake. The flickering images were a far cry from Lourdes’s childhood home: a two–room shack made of wooden slats, its flimsy tin roof weighted down with rocks, the only bathroom a clump of bushes outside. Virtually unnoticed, he will become one of an estimated 48,000 children who enter the United States from Central America and Mexico each year, illegally and without either of their parents. Some children say they need to find out whether their mothers still love them.
She can barely afford food for him and his sister, Belky, who is seven. As a seven–year–old child, delivering tortillas her mother made to wealthy homes, she glimpsed this place on other people’s television screens. As a teenager—indeed, still a child—he will set out for the United States on his own to search for her. Of those, the counselors say, 75 percent are looking for their mothers.
Every month, Enrique misses his mother less, but he does not forget her. Each afternoon, she reminds herself that if she is weak, if she does not keep moving forward, her children will pay.
Lourdes crosses into the United States in one of the largest immigrant waves in the country’s history. He loves the children he has with his wife,” he tells Belky. “He looks at me as if he wasn’t my son, as if he wants to strangle me,” he tells Enrique’s grandmother. Each time, she awakens with Belky’s screams ringing in her ears. She is still wearing her high school graduation ring.
border Central America drugs Enrique's Journey honduras immigration immigration crisis immigration expert Legal Representation media Mexico migrants poverty refugees U. immigration policy unaccompanied immigrant children violence The Boy Does Not Understand. They sleep in trees, in tall grass, or in beds made of leaves. Mexican rail workers have encountered seven-year-olds on their way to find their mothers.