I am writing this aboard a frieght train, trying to go north so that I can provide for you. Jumping the train is dangerous, and so many died, falling off the train or not making the jump at all and all getting sucked beneath the hungry wheels. There were children too, and I cried as I imagined you, my children, coming to find me and dying, or living, like the two children beside me. Miguel and Elena are traveling north to find their parents who left years ago in search of work.