A woman waits on the other side with her three teenage children. Her only son is seventeen, drives a car, and works in a factory somewhere around Los Angeles. Her two scrawny daughters are thirteen and eleven. They have been staying at a motel for several days and are almost out of money. The girls' passports and birth certificates have been "misplaced." They are lost. And they are waiting to be recovered, so they can go home.
(My maternal grandmother and uncle applied for citizenship maybe around 1980, when my aunt and my mother were in their teens. My grandmother had been living in East Los Angeles and cleaning houses on a work visa since she arrived in her early 20s.)
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