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This story is part of a bi-weekly series containing edited chapters of Sharon Hollins’ 2021 book “Crossings: Untold Stories of Undocumented Migrants.”
��osy didn’t realize she was
living in poverty growing
up in Mexico, because she
was surrounded by the loving
embrace of her grandparents.
“They had so little, but they
cared for us deeply,” she says.
Rose walked miles to school to
avoid the bus fare, and wrote
small so she could make a single
notebook last through the
year — but she was happy.
She left school after sixth
grade and got a fake ID from
someone named “Jenny” to pretend
she was 14 years old, allowing
her to get a job. “I sewed Tshirts
and got paid very little,
but I was so happy to be earning
money.” she remembers.
After a few years, she met
her husband while working at a
factory, but “he was not my savior.”
The husband began beating
Rosy — now a mother — but
she initially didn’t leave him,
for fear of the fi nancial problems
that might affl ict her children
if he were to disappear.
One day, though, after a particularly
violent night, Rosy
mader her escape from her alcoholic
abusive husband, and
found her estranged mother,
who took her in with her kids.
Soon, as her children got
older, she knew she faced a diffi
cult choice: If the young ones
were to stay in school, and avoid
the low-wage factory lifestyle
that she was forced into, she
needed money. So she begged
her United States-based uncle,
who agreed to pay for a coyote
to take her across the border.
“I could now see hope on the
horizon.”
She was fi rst worried to be
alone with the coyote, as many
are unscrupulous individuals,
and women are often raped
on the journey, or abandoned
halfway without returning the
amount of money they needed
to spend to hire the coyote in
the fi rst place.
But her uncle vouched for
the character of the man, and
off they went.
When they approached the
Rio Grande River, which separates
Mexico and Texas, the
coyote, an elderly man, swam
their bags across fi rst, before
coming back for Rosy, who paddled
across a strong current to
the other side — and beginning
the worst of the journey.
The pair now had to walk
across a large desert, covered
in barbed wire, with days
that reached over 100 degrees,
and nights that dropped below
zero. In the daytime, Rosy
would feel herself nearly passing
out from the heat and exhaustion,
while she could
barely sleep at night. She bundled
up in all the clothes she
had, but she still felt her fi ngers
freezing.
Everytime she asked, the
coyote would tell her different
timelines about how much
longer the journey would take,
each time extending the timeline
just as she thought they
TIMESLEDGER | Q 10 NS.COM | SEPT. 24 - SEPT. 30, 2021
were getting there.
Now, though, the heat became
worse as they ran out of
water.
“I was secretly hoping that
immigration would pick us
up at this point and the nightmare
would be over! My lips
were cracking and dry. I tried
to lick them, but I had no saliva,”
she said.
A breath of relief fi nally
came when they found a ranch,
and the coyote correctly predicted
they’d have a water
pump for them to steal some
hydration. She lept for the water
and began to chug, before
her caretaker stopped her.
“Drink slowly and carefully,”
he told her. “Too much cold
water too fast can be a shock
to your system.” They refi lled
their bottles and resumed
their walk.
“There seemed to be endless
barbed wire fences that
we had to climb over. I think
since the beginning of the trip
I had counted fi fty,” Rosy remembers.
“My jeans were tattered
shreds. My face and arms
were red with newly opened
and healing slices. My feet
were swollen and blistered. I
never took off the boots, as I
was scared of seeing how bad
my feet were, and knowing
how swollen my feet were, I
was scared that I wouldn’t be
able to get the boots back on.”
Now, on the seventh day of
their journey, they heard the
sound of Immigration helicopters.
Rosy rushed under a tree
and prayed to God. “I didn’t
want to get caught after all the
sacrifi ce I had made in getting
this far,” she says.
Rosy began to suspect that
the coyote didn’t know the exact
route, and whether they
were walking in circles while
looking for a train line that
would usher them to San Antonio.
“We were having trouble
fi nding the train line. We
stood helplessly at a fork in the
path, wondering which way to
go,” she says. “I again asked
God for help, and I felt he was
directing me.”
Finally, they heard the
train.
“Early in the afternoon a
train rumbled into view, then
stopped on the line. We just
managed to jump into the last
wagon,” Rosy remembers.
But their good fortune
didn’t last. The train slowed
down, and they heard shout
from Immigration Enforcement
offi cers — they were
caught.
“I felt bereft as I replayed
the days of walking through
the hellish landscape that I
thought we had fi nally triumphed
over. I considered all
those barbed wire fences, the
heat and cold of the desert,
lack of water and each painful
step,” she remembers. “I felt it
had all been for nothing.”
In yet another turn of
events, however, a kind-sounding
Immigration offi cer allowed
her to tell her story — about the
children back home, and the
abusive husband — and he let
her appeal her case to a judge.
“Maybe there is some justice
in the world because I was told I
was going to be allowed to stay
in the United States,” she says.
Each chapter of the book tells a different story of an immigrants’ journey to the United States.
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