All our lives we grew up thinking we would never get the chance to meet or see him. Sometimes we all thought that he had other family here in the United States and that was why he never returned to Mexico to visit us, or that he had died, but we all had wrong. In May 2005, our mother died at the age of 26. She was a very young mother and left behind three daughters aged six, eight and ten. After this tragedy, Alejandra and Fernanda had to move in with our aunt. I, Maria, stayed with my grandmother. We lived with them for about a year. That year was the hardest because our lives changed in the blink of an eye. My grandmother wasn't the nicest person to me, I was hit and sometimes I wasn't fed. Fortunately, my sisters were luckier. One day, Alejandra received a call from our so-called father to let her know that he was leaving the United States and would be on his way to