“One day, I saw a tiny nopalito (cactus sapling) growing not too far from an old tree. I wanted to dig it up and replant it near our house in Zacatecas. I told my mom that I would protect it from the wind and that I would water it every day so that it could grow nice and tall and strong. My mom frowned at me. "You'd be destroying what makes it special," she said. "It's a nopalito, it is it's struggle that makes it so beautiful...”

“One time I saw a tiny Joshua tree sapling growing not too far from the old tree. I wanted to dig it up and replant it near our house. I told Mom that I would protect it from the wind and water it every day so that it could grow nice and tall and straight. Mom frowned at me. "You'd be destroying what makes it special," she said. "It's the Joshua tree's struggle that gives it its beauty.”

“My mother would always ask us if anyone wanted to learn how to cook or to sew or to iron clothes. I always ran to her—“Me! Me! Me!” So, my mom would teach me. I secretly feared that I might be condemning myself to a life of sissyhood. One day she said it was good that I learned these things because I was never going to be strong or handsome or smart or popular like my older brother, Jesús. He was “el molde” (the mold) I would never be a good copy of him. She said that I might never find a girlfriend or get married—so it was good that I was learning to take care of myself. It freaked me out. I wanted to be strong, handsome, smart, and popular like my brother, Jesús. I never felt like I was. I was just a bad copy...”

“My mother said she already knew how I was. She could tell I was like that since I was a baby. She told me a story about when I was a toddler. She said that one day, she heard an alarm clock ringing in her room and when she went inside, she saw me bent over it. When she got closer, she could she me shaking baby powder on it!“What are you doing, Joey?” She asked me.“Baby crying,” was my reply.”

“My mom passed away 3 years ago. Recently, I found her “special” photo album- the one in which she saved her favorite pictures, postcards and memories. Halfway through the album I found a small, wrinkled, slip of paper. When I looked closer, I could see that it was a “re-admittance” slip for me, to get back into school... in the 10th grade! Why would she save that all these years???”

“Tell me what it is that you are hiding behind your eyes.Tell me of the pain, so I can make it go away.Tell me what it is that you are missing in your life.I want to be the angel who takes care of your soul.Finally I’m alive in your love. There is so much tenderness in your heart.There is so much spirit in your smile.But it is your innocence mixed with mischievousness that I love.I am with you to protect you for the rest of my life.Finally I’m alive in your love. Do not let anything dilute your smile ever again.To see you happy I would do anything, mi amor. You are the woman that I dream of late into the night.It is because of your smile that my life has meaning once again.Finally I’m alive in your love.And every day my love grows stronger for you.And the sadness that I once carried is forever gone.I thank destiny and God for putting you in my life.Since you came into my world, my dreams have all woken up. Finally I’m alive in your love.”

“What Is love? When I was growing up on the streets of Tijuana, I dreamed of being in love. My clothes were old, my pants worn, street water passed through my shoes and socks, but the stars still shined through my soul...”