Ana is an immigrant who came from Guatemala, entering the US through the desert at the Southern border, and finally being led to Los Angeles. She lives in Los Angeles and has had various jobs. She worked in a sewing factory for a while and now sells fruit at the freeway entrance. She left her country because she felt that there was nothing for her there. She never had a chance to go to school, lost her parents and her brother early, leaving her and her sisters struggling to survive. She worked there, but felt it was too difficult because she was mistreated and not paid properly. There was so much sadness that she felt the only thing to do was to leave it behind her.
Ana lives with her husband and 3 children in South Los Angeles. I taught her son in middle school, and when I found out that she was illiterate, I tried to teach her to read. Her life in Los Angeles has not been easy either. With work being scarce at one point, the family has struggled to pay rent and put food on the table. At one point, they were homeless, but were able to get into a shelter that helped them get back on their feet. Yet Ana is grateful to be here. She feels that here, in the United States, people like her are valued more than they are in Guatemala. She has a chance to work with dignity and her children have a chance for a better future here. She says:
“I want to say that I still did not want to go back to Guatemala even after all of this. My children were born here and I’m going to stay here for the future of my children. I don’t want them to go back to Guatemala because life is so difficult there. There is no future for them there. Here we have help. They have schools and if they get sick they have Medi-Cal. In Guatemala we are so sad without help. If you get sick no one helps. There is no work for us in Guatemala.”
Ana wanted to tell her story because she said, “People should know what life is like for us poor people”.
You are welcome to read Ana’s full story here.
ANA
EARLY LIFE
I was born in Guatemala, in Nueva Calendaria, a village in San Cristobal Totonicapan. Over there we speak the dialect Quiche and use huipile skirts. We use very different types of clothes.
Ana wearing a huipile
We used to buy them and I had some there. I left most my huipiles behind and now I don’t wear them too much because my sisters and I don’t have the money to have them sent. Huipiles are very expensive; a skirt can go for 1500 quetzales and a huipil can go for 900 quetzales.
The people there weave them on a loom and they make big clothes on them. They do many things which I don’t remember because I have been here for 15 years. My sisters and I learned a little because Papa would make the skirts. He would make them and sell them. My Mama would do the threads after my Papa bought them. He did the weaving but after he died, we stopped doing it.
FATHER DIES
He died suddenly, I don’t know if he had a heart attack or what. I don’t know from sadness or from happiness.
It was the time of my sister’s wedding party and he had just delivered my sister’s things for a newly wedded life. While we were playing outside and enjoying the happiness of our sister’s wedding. he went to sit at the table and he died. We tried to wake him to eat because at first we thought he was sleeping but he just sat at the table with his face down.
We shouted at him and begged him to react, we couldn’t believe it. My Tio came now and with my cousin, he got an onion and a cigar and a Guatemalan chile. Now they put these near Father’s nose so he would react and get up. But nothing! And my father turned purple. Father was a good person and I remember all this at times.
We were still children and my Mama said she could no longer do it and make ends meet with our Papa gone. Mama told us she was a woman alone and making huipiles takes the strength of a man and she just couldn’t do it alone.
So about the age of my daughter Mayra (12), I went to work for people and I grew up like this. Even when Papa was alive we did not go to school because the schools asked us to pay and we didn’t have the money. After he died, I worked in the field and as the servant for a senora—cooking, giving food to her children. For this reason I don’t know how to read and write.
BROTHER (HERMANO) IS GONE TOO
A few years later my brother died. He was about 19 or 20 years old. We think he was poisoned. It happened like this: He went out for a little while with my cousin. He promised Mama he would be back soon for a party at a neighbor’s to celebrate “Las Acciones de Maria”, as you say here in the United States. When they came back, everyone seemed fine, we didn’t know where he ate the poison. When he was out or when he barely came back. I was so little then, I don’t have a clear memory of that.
Mama was telling him to come eat, it was late because we eat late there, about 8 PM. When we started to eat, He said to me “I love you very much, little sister”. I said I loved him too but I didn’t know he was going to die right then.
He hugged Mama and said, “Don’t ever forget that I love you very much”. Mama said, “What is the matter with you? Why are you saying this to me?” He said there wasn’t any particular reason and she said “I love you very much too, but now go wash your hands and come eat. Hurry up.”
I sat myself down with Hermano and Mama. My other 2 sisters were in the other room so it was just us. Mama started serving the food and Hermano took a small piece for himself. I looked at him and I said, “Hermano, are you drunk?” Mama scolded, “Why are you drinking? You are still a boy.”
He said he hadn’t been drinking but he suddenly, he fell off his chair. I went running to pick him up, thinking he was still drunk. “Hermano Santos, get up, get up Hermano Santos”. He did get up but he was frothing at the mouth, frothing and frothing. I saw his throat swell up and more froth. He vomited and maybe he took the poison out when he did that. I yelled for Mama and held him. He said “Take care of yourself, Sister. I love you very much”. And then he died. We went to call Tio and the neighbors, but it was too late! He was gone.
There is no law in Guatemala like they have here that you have to report this to the police and have it investigated to see what happened. Its not the same. Tio said, “Now my nephew is dead. We have to buy a coffin and we have to bury him.” Well, Mama was very sad. “I just lost my husband 7 months ago and now I’ve lost my son.”
Here’s the thing–When he was taken away to be buried, a woman came dressed in black. Mama said she laughed a cackling laugh and said, “Now I have won, your son is dead! She said this even though Mama did not know her.
My family looked for her to ask her why she poisoned my brother. Did he rob her? Did he do something bad to her? Couldn’t she just have told us? But we never found her. Mama said, “Only God knows about these things.”
MAMA LEAVES US
Then Mama died and we were left alone—4 sisters. Mama died maybe from sadness and worries. Her husband was gone and now her son. I think Mama lived for 7 years after Papa died.
She got a fever and we took her for an operation. We said “Mama speak!”, but she just looked at us and she didn’t get up from her bed for a month.
We worked to pay the doctors to heal our Mama. She didn’t get better so my Tio came over and said it was better that we took her back to the doctor. The doctor charged us a lot, sometimes 5000 quetzales, sometime 6000 quetzales. My sister encouraged us all to work hard so Mama would be healed and still live with us. Otherwise, we would be left orphans.
But Mama didn’t get better. The hospital said “No, prepare yourself because your mother will not get better and she will leave you soon.” That’s what they said to us. When Mama returned home she was with us for no more than a week.
The doctor said there was no solution, whatever they did for her- IV or whatever. The doctor said to us, “Don’t be sad but you will not have parents.” I said to my sister “This doctor is bad, Mama will live”.
I kept thinking she would get better and get out of bed and be herself, but my sister said we had to believe the doctor, after all he was a doctor. And when the time came, God took Mama. God took her at about 10 in the morning.
WE ARE ALONE
My Tio and my sisters said we have to now struggle without parents. It was just 3 of us. My 4th sister got married and went to live somewhere else.
I was young but my little sister was younger. She was only 5 or 6 years old when we were left orphaned. My older sister said we all had to work because we were orphaned and there was no one left to support us.
We were left with a lot of debt with the burials. We had to borrow money. I said to my sister, Santa, we have to be brave so Mama won’t be so sad. We are children but we must struggle to move forward. And Little Sister was so small, we couldn’t have her work. We would get up early and go to work in the fields and in people’s houses.
In actual fact, I started working when our father died. After our brother and mother went, we had to seriously work because it was just us sisters. We tried to raise our little sister on our own.
I spoke with my sister and I said that I had to go to the US, there is no work here. We were left without parents and we felt that our neighbors said things about us because we were orphans. We did not feel any community with our neighbors and we were struggling. Its not like here (in the US) where there is help for people like us.
I LEAVE HOME
We worked in fields and later I decided to go to the capital because a woman who had a business there asked me to come and help take care of her children. My sisters were in agreement that I should go as her employee, but finally it was up to me. I thought I would try it and I ended up going for a few months—5 or 6.
But she treated me so badly. She screamed at me, insulted my parents, used bad language and her children followed suit—talking badly and throwing things at my face. I would cry and say, “God, why did my mother die? Why did my father die?” They would come in my dreams and say “Daughter, don’t worry. We are with you.” But I felt so alone. I wanted affection and they were not there to hug me.
A neighbor saw my boss treating me bad– throwing the clothes at me and shouting hurry up and wash those clothes. I was crying and washing the clothes by hand—in Guatemala we have to wash the clothes by hand. She said, “Ana”, she called me by name. She said, “Ana, she mistreats you, right?” And I said, “Yes!”.
She advised me to go back home to my parents and not stay here to be maltreated like this. You see, she didn’t know that I didn’t have parents. We talked and I told her that I did not have parents and that I had to do this job to help raise my little sister. The neighbor took pity on me and comforted me. She said God will punish this woman who is mistreating you. She said you may not see God now, but God is at your side and he is watching you. She prayed for me and counseled me to have faith.
But the maltreatment continued. The screaming, the hitting and throwing things at me. The last straw was when they complained about the way I put socks on their feet and then kicked me when I was doing it. I decided, in the end, that I could not endure this anymore and I would return home. I demanded my payment, telling her I would leave. After some argument and bullying, she paid me for 3 months, even though I had worked there for 6 months.
I COME BACK
My sisters were happy to see me when I came back. They said they thought they would not see me again. I was happy to be home, but I was still very sad that my parents were gone. At least we were able to buy some things we needed with the money I brought back.
So we continued. Our married sister would come and check up on us every now then and my other sister got married. I continued to work in the cornfields, cutting grass, goat herding and of course, always looking for wood to cook. We didn’t have gas or running water and cooking was done on an open fire. We didn’t even have electricity, although my sister tells me that it is different now.
I DECIDE TO LEAVE AGAIN
My 13 year old sister got together with a young man. I was angry with her. I said that I was working so hard so she could move ahead in life and she was wasting her time with someone who would probably leave her in the end. My older sister supported her and said I should get married too. But I said I was not going to be with anyone. I needed to move ahead. I said, OK, it is her life and I am going to leave for the US.
My older sister was afraid for me. She was afraid she would lose me. But my thinking was that there was no dignified work and I was so depressed at the loss of my parents that I did not want to live anymore. I would look around me and see someone walking by who looked like my mother. I wanted to put all this behind me. I told my sister—either I go to the US or I kill myself.
So my sister said, go if you want to and we will look for how to pay a Coyote (smuggler) for you. Go, but no suicide. By this time the older generation was all gone and we didn’t get along with our cousins.
GOING NORTH
My sister found a way to pay for the coyote and lent me the money for the passage. There was one coyote that brought me to the Mexican border, He charged 50,000 Quetzales. Another brought me through Mexico to the US border and a third coyote brought me through the deserts of the US to Los Angeles. They demanded $15,000 more.
There was a rich neighbor who lent us the money. I suppose you could call him a millionaire. He wanted to know why I wanted the money and where I was going when I was still such a young girl. He wanted to know how we would pay him back. I said I was determined to go and that I would pay him back. He took our house and land as collateral. We didn’t lose the house because I worked and sent the money to Guatemala.
I was warned of the bad coyotes in the passage and 4 of us women and some children stayed together. We left Guatemala in a car. In Mexico we were in a truck. At the border we were locked in an apartment and told to be very quiet so we would not be reported. They said, “Hide yourself or lose your money!”
We entered the United States desert walking—no car, no food, no water. Walking day and night for about 2 weeks in the desert. By now our group had swelled to about 25 people with many men. They were from Guatemala, Mexico and El Salvador. We would drink water left for cows and that’s what we did.
I AM IN THE UNITED STATES
When I got to Los Angeles, I had no family. The coyote was mean to me because I had to stay in his apartment. There was a lady called Olga who was an acquaintance of my sister. You see, the neighbor of my brother-in-law was the coyote I left with. Olga was the wife of this coyote who brought me.
She took me the next day after I arrived to the swap meet and left me there saying I had to look for a job. You see, she had a car and we went in her car. I said how will I find you again? What can I do here? I can’t read or write. She said, I don’t care, just get a job—sewing, whatever.
Alejandro, Ana’s husband
That same day, I met my husband there. I felt comfortable because we were both from Guatemala. He asked me where I was from and what I was looking for. He assured me of his good intentions. I told him where I was from and he said he was a neighbor of my brother-in-law. He was kind and said he would help me find a job because I had just come here.
He then asked me if he could visit me. I told him I didn’t know because Olga had dropped me off and told me to find my way back. It turned out he knew Olga and her husband “Pacho”. We both agreed she was not a nice woman and he offered to show me the bus system. So we got to know each other.
I confided my troubles to him. He said that I was not to worry that he would help me. He wanted to help me find a sewing job, but the sewing here is different. Here they use a machine and I didn’t know how to use it.
He offered to lend me money to go to a school where they teach sewing. He got me enrolled in a sewing school that charged $150 a month. There I learnt to sew and do overlap and now I was excited to work.
I kept living with Olga who continued to be mean to me. She wouldn’t let me use the kitchen and wanted to know how I was able back to her place. I told her a son of God helped me, but she got madder at me, and said he would have to leave. Another girl lent me clothes to wear because I started out with no money. I lived like this for a year, spending as little money as possible so I could pay back my sister’s neighbor.
At that time sewing paid well. I worked hard and was able to pay my sister’s neighbor so my sister would not end up on the street. My husband asked me to be with him to share expenses, and I accepted. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. My husband helped me to pay the moneylending neighbor in Guatemala.
My sisters, Adela, Santa, Miriya and I are all settled now and my youngest sister moved to North Carolina with her husband. My first child, Wilson, was born soon after.
My sister, Santa, lives in the house back home, but in reality, our mother left the house in Miriya’s name because she was so small when our parents died. Miriya moved to North Carolina with her husband but she wants to go back because she left her 3 children in Guatemala with Santa.
HARD TIMES IN OUR NEW LAND
Unfortunately for us, the sewing business changed. We couldn’t find work and now we had 3 children. We lived in a “single” and the manager was getting really mad at us because we couldn’t pay the rent. She was threatening to call the social workers or the police on us and putting a complaint on us.
I was afraid they would take our children and deport us without our family. I thought that they would take my children and I would have to return to Guatemala without my family. My home is here now, my family is here. After all the sad things that happened to me in Guatemala, I don’t want to go back there. People there were not nice to us. They don’t help the way people here do.
I thought without my children, without my life, what am I going to do in Guatemala? Better to lose all my things here and take my children with me and go away. I said to my husband, “Do you want to go with me or do you want a place to look for yourself?” I’ll look for a place to go and where to take our children.
So after a while, my husband said, “No, how can I abandon you with my children? Let’s go somewhere else, even if we have to sleep on the street. But we will be together—you and me and our children.” I said “OK” and we left. I took the children to school in the morning and we went looking for work. We didn’t find it, and we both were desperate. We didn’t have food in the morning and only for the children in the evening.
Everyday we would pass like this. Taking the children to school, looking for work and picking them up in the afternoon with nothing to show for it. Where are we going to sleep tonight? Sometimes he would get them and sometimes me. When it rained we would all get wet and I would see my children drenched. A desperation was coming over us. Mayra would ask if we had a found a place and I would say, “Not yet, daughter!” By now we were all on the street.
HELPING HANDS
One day, a senora saw us and she spoke with my husband. She asked us what happened. My husband explained to her that we were homeless and had nothing. We said we had been thrown out of our apartment because we fell behind on the rent. We paid a little bit whenever we could, but we were late. The lady said, “How come she evicted you if you were paying her something and you have kids?”
The time was coming to pick up the kids now. And the lady asked us who was going to go get them. And she invited us to stay with her. She said that she had a son who was homeless and it made her cry to think about it. She said to go get the kids and bring them to her house. When we got there. she gave us warm blankets and she said we could bathe in her bathroom and change clothes.
We were happy to have a place for the night, but what about tomorrow? We thanked the lady in the morning when we woke the kids for school. She said, “Come back this evening and I’ll give you a place to stay tonight and food to eat.” I thanked her but I was embarrassed. Anyway, we accepted her kindness for another night.
SHELTER AT LAST
As we wandered around looking for work and a place to live, I met another woman in the park who said that there were shelters we could go to. I told her I didn’t know about this because I don’t know how to read nor write. Who knows what type of papers they need?
She said, “Don’t worry, I will help you”. She said she was Christian and God had sent her to find us in the park. Both kind women were urging us to go to a shelter. They said they would help us. She gave me a number but I didn’t even have a telephone. She called the place for me, the “refuge”, but they didn’t answer. The lady with whom we were staying for the 3rd night was able to reach them at night. She spoke English so she was able to speak with them. She explained to them that we were a couple with 3 children with no family here.
The shelter took us. They explained their rules to us. We could be there at 6 until 10 in the evening, but we had to be up at 5 in the morning. The nice lady said we could stay with her another night, but my husband thought it was better that we enter the shelter that night so we wouldn’t be on the street again. The lady called her sister who took us in her car and she left us at the shelter near San Pedro St.
My husband found some work but I couldn’t find any. So he would work and I would be in the park in the day. I would get the children and we would go to the shelter at night. Whatever my husband earned, he would turn in to the shelter and they would save it for him. We lived like this for a month until the shelter said we could use the money we had saved to find a place or go to another shelter.
The shelter said we should save more, that we did not have enough. They took us to another shelter on 88th and Broadway and we stayed there for another month. It was much nicer there. We had our own room and there was a place to cook. It was more of a home for the kids.
The shelter continued to save our money for us. They said we had to now start looking for a place to live. They would help with the rent deposit and help us with a bed and furniture. They continued to help us save. They said, “Look for a place and we will even leave you there.”
To tell you the truth, we had nothing. When we fled from the other place, we left everything, even photos of our children, my sisters. Everything! Sometimes I remember when my children were small and learning to walk, all the memories were left behind. All of them! But it’s here in my head. I will never lose that.
The shelter told us that if I find a place, I was not to talk to them. They would go and talk to them. Not me. Since my husband worked, he asked me to look for a place. Just to get the information.
I don’t know how to read and write, and my husband only knows a little bit too. But we know the “For Rent” sign by the colors. Its red and white. He said to just find the sign and then he would go to look at it.
I looked all over, and found this sign on Maple. I called the number and spoke to the manager and asked him the details. I went back and told the shelter about it and gave them all the details. They thought it sounded OK.
They spoke with the manager and I went them with the next day to see it. I liked it, so they helped me complete the lease and we all moved in here. The shelter paid a 2-month deposit so it would not be so easy to evict us. They warned us not to lose the lease, to treat it like my birth certificate.
The next week we got prepared to move. They had us do all our laundry and we got ready to move. The shelter brought us to the apartment and gave us all our saved money.
They said we had to pay every month. Remember, if you don’t pay, you will end up on the street again. You have to stay strong for your children. They said the way our previous landlady scared us was not right, it was illegal. If anything else happened that we should call them for help.
But I don’t like to go back there. My husband says, “Why should we? I am working and supporting the family now.” He has been in and out of work and now I am starting a business selling fruit. I sell peanuts, bananas and oranges. A lady I met is showing me the business. We have to find a way to pay the bills.
WHY DO WE STAY HERE?
When I first came, the coyote brought me to this city. I want to say that I still did not want to go back to Guatemala even after all of this. My children were born here and I’m going to stay here for the future of my children. I don’t want them to go back to Guatemala because life is so difficult there. There is no future for them there. Here we have help. They have schools and if they get sick they have Medi-Cal. In Guatemala we are so sad without help. If you get sick no one helps. There is no work for us in Guatemala.
POSTSCRIPT:
Ana and her family continue to struggle to make ends meet. She is learning a new business—she is a street vendor. She goes downtown to buy fruit and sells it near the freeway entrance near downtown LA. If you see someone selling fruit, stop and buy some. You will help someone realize their dream of living with dignity in Los Angeles—the city we all call home.
EARLY LIFE
I was born in Guatemala, in Nueva Calendaria, a village in San Cristobal Totonicapan. Over there we speak the dialect Quiche and use huipile skirts. We use very different types of clothes.
The people there weave them on a loom and they make big clothes on them. They do many things which I don’t remember because I have been here for 15 years. My sisters and I learned a little because Papa would make the skirts. He would make them and sell them. My Mama would do the threads after my Papa bought them. He did the weaving but after he died, we stopped doing it.
He died suddenly, I don’t know if he had a heart attack or what. I don’t know from sadness or from happiness.
cousin, he got an onion and a cigar and a Guatemalan chile. Now they put these near Father’s nose so he would react and get up. But nothing! And my father turned purple. Father was a good person and I remember all this at times.
So about the age of my daughter Mayra (12), I went to work for people and I grew up like this. Even when Papa was alive we did not go to school because the schools asked us to pay and we didn’t have the money. After he died, I worked in the field and as the servant for a senora—cooking, giving food to her children. For this reason I don’t know how to read and write.
A few years later my brother died. He was about 19 or 20 years old. We think he was poisoned. It happened like this: He went out for a little while with my cousin. He promised Mama he would be back soon for a party at a neighbor’s to celebrate “Las Acciones de Maria”, as you say here in the United States. When they came back, everyone seemed fine, we didn’t know where he ate the poison. When he was out or when he barely came back. I was so little then, I don’t have a clear memory of that.
I sat myself down with Hermano and Mama. My other 2 sisters were in the other room so it was just us. Mama started serving the food and Hermano took a small piece for himself. I looked at him and I said, “Hermano, are you drunk?” Mama scolded, “Why are you drinking? You are still a boy.”
Here’s the thing–When he was taken away to be buried, a woman came dressed in black. Mama said she laughed a cackling laugh and said, “Now I have won, your son is dead! She said this even though Mama did not know her.
Then Mama died and we were left alone—4 sisters. Mama died maybe from sadness and worries. Her husband was gone and now her son. I think Mama lived for 7 years after Papa died.
But Mama didn’t get better. The hospital said “No, prepare yourself because your mother will not get better and she will leave you soon.” That’s what they said to us. When Mama returned home she was with us for no more than a week.
We were left with a lot of debt with the burials. We had to borrow money. I said to my sister, Santa, we have to be brave so Mama won’t be so sad. We are children but we must struggle to move forward. And Little Sister was so small, we couldn’t have her work. We would get up early and go to work in the fields and in people’s houses.
We worked in fields and later I decided to go to the capital because a woman who had a business there asked me to come and help take care of her children. My sisters were in agreement that I should go as her employee, but finally it was up to me. I thought I would try it and I ended up going for a few months—5 or 6.
A neighbor saw my boss treating me bad– throwing the clothes at me and shouting hurry up and wash those clothes. I was crying and washing the clothes by hand—in Guatemala we have to wash the clothes by hand. She said, “Ana”, she called me by name. She said, “Ana, she mistreats you, right?” And I said, “Yes!”.
But the maltreatment continued. The screaming, the hitting and throwing things at me. The last straw was when they complained about the way I put socks on their feet and then kicked me when I was doing it. I decided, in the end, that I could not endure this anymore and I would return home. I demanded my payment, telling her I would leave. After some argument and bullying, she paid me for 3 months, even though I had worked there for 6 months.
So we continued. Our married sister would come and check up on us every now then and my other sister got married. I continued to work in the cornfields, cutting grass, goat herding and of course, always looking for wood to cook. We didn’t have gas or running water and cooking was done on an open fire. We didn’t even have electricity, although my sister tells me that it is different now.
My 13 year old sister got together with a young man. I was angry with her. I said that I was working so hard so she could move ahead in life and she was wasting her time with someone who would probably leave her in the end. My older sister supported her and said I should get married too. But I said I was not going to be with anyone. I needed to move ahead. I said, OK, it is her life and I am going to leave for the US.
My sister found a way to pay for the coyote and lent me the money for the passage. There was one coyote that brought me to the Mexican border, He charged 50,000 Quetzales. Another brought me through Mexico to the US border and a third coyote brought me through the deserts of the US to Los Angeles. They demanded $15,000 more.
We entered the United States desert walking—no car, no food, no water. Walking day and night for about 2 weeks in the desert. By now our group had swelled to about 25 people with many men. They were from Guatemala, Mexico and El Salvador. We would drink water left for cows and that’s what we did.
I AM IN THE UNITED STATES
I confided my troubles to him. He said that I was not to worry that he would help me. He wanted to help me find a sewing job, but the sewing here is different. Here they use a machine and I didn’t know how to use it.
Unfortunately for us, the sewing business changed. We couldn’t find work and now we had 3 children. We lived in a “single” and the manager was getting really mad at us because we couldn’t pay the rent. She was threatening to call the social workers or the police on us and putting a complaint on us.
Everyday we would pass like this. Taking the children to school, looking for work and picking them up in the afternoon with nothing to show for it. Where are we going to sleep tonight? Sometimes he would get them and sometimes me. When it rained we would all get wet and I would see my children drenched. A desperation was coming over us. Mayra would ask if we had a found a place and I would say, “Not yet, daughter!” By now we were all on the street.
One day, a senora saw us and she spoke with my husband. She asked us what happened. My husband explained to her that we were homeless and had nothing. We said we had been thrown out of our apartment because we fell behind on the rent. We paid a little bit whenever we could, but we were late. The lady said, “How come she evicted you if you were paying her something and you have kids?”
As we wandered around looking for work and a place to live, I met another woman in the park who said that there were shelters we could go to. I told her I didn’t know about this because I don’t know how to read nor write. Who knows what type of papers they need?
I looked all over, and found this sign on Maple. I called the number and spoke to the manager and asked him the details. I went back and told the shelter about it and gave them all the details. They thought it sounded OK.
Ana and her family continue to struggle to make ends meet. She is learning a new business—she is a street vendor. She goes downtown to buy fruit and sells it near the freeway entrance near downtown LA. If you see someone selling fruit, stop and buy some. You will help someone realize their dream of living with dignity in Los Angeles—the city we all call home.