My mother, Maritza Viera, came to this country in the early eighties, not thinking she would stay long. She made a life for herself here, though, and after over thirty years, she is now a United States citizen.

Her life in the U.S. wasn't easy in the early years. When she arrived, she didn't know what she'd expect, but the promise of better pay drove her to work and work hard. In Passaic, New Jersey, my mother began working at a cafe called, "Mundo Latino" and at Chifa Victoria, an Asian-Hispanic restaurant.

After working two jobs, my mother had finally saved enough money to find her own place and possibly buy a car. After a double-shift one night, she came home to find her saved $5,000 gone. My mother cried and asked her "friend" for the money to which she was promptly kicked out. New Jersey in November, it was snowing.

My parents weren’t yet dating, but they had known each other well enough to be friends at this point, and when my father found out about the robbery, he tried to get the thieves to give my mother her money. After his attempt, he was promptly kicked out too. Both of them were looking for a new place to live now, and they found a shady apartment close by. They moved in with three other male roommates who seemed normal enough at first, but turned out to be junkies.

A couple weeks into living there, my parents were watching TV in my mom’s room. The men in the living room became rowdy and started banging on my mother’s door, yelling for her to come out. My father hid my mother before opening the door. The men were shirtless, some nude, and God only knows what they would’ve done had he not been there. They left the apartment quickly. Another failed living situation, another inconvenience in their lives.

While interviewing my mother about her struggles when she first came to America, I asked her why she came in the first place, and why she stayed, especially after all the torment she was put through?

My mother came to this country because she wanted to save up money to become an orthodontist and so that she could one day buy my grandmother a new house. She never thought she would actually stay as long as she did.

She also stayed because of Peru’s economic turmoil. Peru was rationing food and supplies, the country was poor, and was under martial law, similar to Venezuela’s current economic and political situation.

After being in the country for seven years, my mother received residency due to Ronald Regan’s policies for immigrants back then. My mother was expecting a baby, but something happened.

My mother had two continuous miscarriages. My parents were told that because my mother was prone to ovarian cysts that potentially turned into tumors, she could not have children. She was depressed but had a hope to carry on. So they tried again, and my sister was born in May of 1990. A miracle baby!

She left my sister in my grandmother’s care in Peru. “I don’t have anyone to look after her while we work, Mom. Please take care of her.” She told my grandmother. “Of course. You just do what you need to do.”

My mother returned to New Jersey and began studying home-health care. She took care of older people and was paid handsomely. She also became a nanny and cared for multiple children. She liked having that job because it felt like she was taking care of her own kids.

About three years later, my mother had a friend visit her from Naples, Florida. “You should come to Naples,” she said, “there are tons of jobs and I’ll let you live with me until you find your own place.” My mother took her friend up on her offer, and she was able to bring my grandmother, sister, and father along with her.

At first, everything was beautiful. Great weather, tons of opportunity for a job, but there was something that wasn’t quite right. My mother had been in a car accident before she moved down to Naples and received a $9,000 compensation.

My mother’s friend began telling my mother about her financial trouble. My mother let them borrow $5,000 from her and her friend promised to return it within three-months time. Three months went by, and my mother still hadn’t received the money. After the final confrontation, my mother’s friend became her enemy.

The woman became aggressive and irrational. She began throwing my family’s belongings in her front yard and set them on fire. My family stood there horrified, watching the flame. I was there too, but I hadn’t made myself known yet. My mother was pregnant but didn’t know it.

After finding out she was four months pregnant, she went up to New York to stay with my aunt while my grandmother and sister returned to Peru, and my dad ended up staying in Naples, working at Pelican Bay.

While my mother was staying with my aunt Melva, my mother was treated poorly and not paid well for working. She was six months pregnant working as a housekeeper alongside her cousin who would feed her, but not pay her.

My mother had a difficult labor with me. She hemorrhaged and lost a lot of blood, leaving her with a four hemoglobin level. The normal hemoglobin level for women is usually twelve. She recovered after 19 days of being hospitalized and soon, my mother and I traveled to Peru.

We spent nine months in Peru at my grandmother’s house, being watched over by my extended family. We returned to Naples, Florida, meeting up with my father who was going crazy without his family.

We found an apartment in a quiet neighborhood in East Naples and I grew up there. I didn’t know any of the problems my mother had endured then, but I’m glad to know them now.

Today, my sister is an RN and I'm a journalism major planning to graduate in late 2019. My mother has become my hero because of the horrible things she had to go through when she first came into this country. I know now more than ever that I cannot take my mother for granted because she has always tried to be a selfless woman. I love her dearly and I hope to make her proud of me with everything I do from here on out.