My mom's birthday was on the 26th of July.

As an Aries, I find it hard to deal with my mom sometimes because of our shared problematic tendencies that are only heightened by our equally passionate fire signs. Regardless, I love her more than anything, which is why I decided to surprise her for her special day. My sisters were in on the surprise as well; even the two-year-old knew that something was up. So on that Thursday, I took the train from Long Island and made my way to Yonkers.

My mom, even with her flaws, manages to be one of the most influential people I have ever come to know. At the age of 19 she crossed the Mexican border with my father and made a new life for herself and her children here in the United States. She had nothing; no money, no friends, no place to stay, just the will and determination that was woven into the fabric of her being, both as an immigrant and by being a Leo. She is the definition of self-made and the embodiment of love.

This country has done her no favors. Her battle for citizenship has driven her and many others in her position to compromise their dreams and aspirations. My mothers walks the world every day hoping that it won't be her last one in this country. For the past 24 years, this has been her home, and it has become a part of her, but still, people in this administration fail to see the humanity and severity of her case and many others like hers.

As I boarded the train that would take me back home, I was met with the face of a concerned older woman. She asked me if this was the correct train to Yonkers. I explained calmly that I was also traveling to Yonkers and would be stopping at the same stop as her. As she let out a sigh of relief I noticed the sparkle in her pink eyeshadow and the boldness of her yellow blouse. She was smiling ear to ear, and could hardly contain the excitement in her voice. She couldn't resist and so she let out a shriek of excitement and explained to me how she had just passed her citizenship test. I immediately thought of my mom and her struggle to get her citizenship.

The color yellow was the reason she passed. She had explained that yellow was the color of luck and was the reason why she had passed her test. "You should wear yellow more often," is what she said to me after going through every second of her day leading up to her passing. I shared my mother's story with her and, as expected, they shared a very similar background. She told me she was from Ecuador and came to this country at a very young age with her son. I told her that my mother and myself were from Mexico.

The train announced that Yonkers would be the next stop. We got off the train and as we started walking our separate ways she waved goodbye and motioned towards her blouse, which was iridescent yellow underneath the sun's light. As I walked back home from the train station I thought of that woman and the parallels between her story and my mom's. My mom turned 43 that day. 24 of those years were spent in the United States.

Happy birthday, Mom.