“Did you have land where you came from?” Cayatu asked.

“Oh, no. We were poor in Mexico. So poor!  Guillermo worked long days. So did I, but still there was never enough. He wanted more for us. He joined the army to give us a better life than we had there.”

Cayatu looked puzzled. “What is poor?”

“Poor is a terrible thing,” Josefa said. “Poor is when the ribs of your child press on his skin; when there’s no money to buy the maize growing just outside your town, or the milk that will keep your child alive. Poor is when the ache in your belly lets you steal from your neighbors without regret.”

“Were you always poor?”

Josefa stood in thought for a moment, reflecting back to her days in Guanajuato before she had met Guillermo. Those were days when she lived by her wits, knowing at a young age that men found her attractive, and understanding as a last resort she could count on her looks, and pleasing attitude to provide food to eat and a place to sleep, but not much more. “I’ve been poor all my life, yes,” she told Cayatu. “I was an orphan. But it was different for our people before our land was conquered. Men like my uncle and his father worked the fields and raised enough food to feed their families. They traded for other things they needed. No one knew they were poor then, only when the Spaniards sent men into the ground to dig their silver did we learn how poor we were.” Pausing, her face took on a frown as she studied her new friend. “My ancestors were Indian. Like you. That was a long time back. I have Spanish blood—we all do now because the conquerors took our women to bed with them. But we aren’t Spaniards—they don’t treat us as equals. We’re Mexicans, working to make the Spaniards rich. We’ve learned to live with them—we survive well enough. You will too, in time. Soldiers will make babies with your women. Your children won’t be Indian anymore either. They’ll be mestizos, like us. That’s our life, soon it will be yours. There’s nothing to do about it. You’ll learn how to survive.” Josefa shrugged. “It’s God’s will.