Here in this place las mamas are greeted with silent smiles and their babies are welcomed with slightly wrinkled brows ("not another one"). We worry about their tee shirts, and fitted skirts, their unshaved, un-nyloned legs, their change purses gripped in round, brown hands -a dollar or two for tortillas and milk.
But here in this place their children become real to us. They become Jairo and Lizette. We say their names as easily as Mike and Kimberly. We hug Maricela as tightly as Ashley. We brag about Luis as much as Nick.
But las mamas-- We worry about las mamas.
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