Paloma

He came from a town where the word poverty has no name.

Dirt streets, adobe houses, no electricity, no gas, well water.

He was the 3rd of 5 siblings. He always wanted to study, he went to primary school at a rural schoolhouse he rode to on horseback (when it wasn't raining too hard), for secondary school, thanks to a recommendation from the town priest, he was accepted as a boarder at a religious school, paying his way by helping with chores.

He came to the city with the dream of working and studying at the University. His mother paid for the ticket with the little she had saved, and he promised he'd pay her back once he got his degree. He slept for several days in a plaza until he found a job and could rent this tiny 2-by-2 attic room with barely a little window.

He began his studies, how hard it was to study until 1 or 2 in the morning and get up at 6 to go to work. He had discouraging days like this one, he heard a noise behind the window (which he never opened). He opened it and found a pigeon's nest, with 2 chicks inside, he found a little biscuit, crumbled it and scattered it into the nest, and in his imagination he pictured the little pigeons smiling, and he thought they too had had to adapt to this city of cement and they needed, just like him, love and solidarity.

From today on, every day I'll bring them food. He took it as a message not to give up, and promised himself that if he ever had a daughter, she would be named PALOMA.