Morning Memories

I found myself with glistening tears this morning. Although I had watched it before, I was watching McFarland this morning. I started working in the fields with my parents at an early age, my mom use to pull the covers off of us to wake us up at the crack of dawn. It was hard work, but thinking back it was probably some of the best times, of my youth. I was with my family all the time, eating outside, laughing and joking. The sharing of our lives.  Feeling that unity that one only knows when they have gone through the same experience. As I watched the movie, I was thinking of a friend with respect, that this was part of his story, he lived there, he ran through the fields. The never ending plates of food, you visited someone and you never left hungry.At the end of the day when you know the time is just about up and your dad says let's race and see who can fill up their bin first. I was always paired with my dad, my brother with my mom. In the end it didn't matter who won, all I knew is once they were filled we would get to go home, till the next day. Watching the movie brought back so many of those memories. I wished myself to be sitting at the table where everyone was eating. I am very lucky that with my current family, we follow the tradition and get together on a weekend and sit around and table, eating laughing telling chismes and stories.  We bless our food our love our family and we bless those that could not make it .  There are many that do not know my history, of where I came from and how I got to where  I where I am now.  I don't share my story often not because I'm embarrassed or wish it never happened but because it is a sacred time for me.  I can relate to the heart many times when I hear the stories of the Hispanics that are in trouble, because I come from humble farm workers, I come from parents who despite their limited schooling tried to give us all they could by showing us where we would be if we did not continue our education. My mom once told me when I was gripping about school, "don't go to school, but THIS is where you will be for the rest of your life!" I never forgot those words.

Memories come flooding back of the days it was so cold you couldn't even feel your fingers and you can to get moving so your body would actually stay warm,. I can remember me and my older brother finding a broken oil pot bottom and starting a fire in it to keep warm. when it was time to move to the next set of trees  we dragged our "hook" stick through it and brought it with us. At first my dad was mad, because we were "wasting" time, but once we had it built up nice, it was pretty toasty sitting it in the middle of all  the trees that whenever you would go empty your orange bag, you could stop by and warm up. After awhile he made sure we brought it with us each time we moved around. We would built it back up the next day and start all over. My mom would even cook our meals over the flame, heaven knows what chemicals we probably ended up eating but our food was warm!

Flashback to now, we live in the country and it is only in the past year that we have become friendly with our neighbors. Good Morning, how are you doing? Vecino, Vecina, dona. We give each other fruit or plates of food or breads. I didn't pay attention until really recently that at the same time I am leaving to go to work out, my neighbors are standing in their yard waiting for their ride to pick them up for work. I make sure the carlights are turned off as I go by, I wave whether they see me or not. And I wonder what they must think of me. this is a glimpse of  my humble beginnings, my foundation of life.