that and so I earned only seventy-five
centavos
a day, not even enough for food. I was very hungry and passed whole days without food or with only one meal a day. That’s why I say, I had no childhood. I worked this way for about four years.
Then I met a Spaniard who owned a corn mill. He knew I had some experience with scales and weighing and one day he said to me, “I am going to Mexico City. If you want to come, I can give you work.”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready.” All my baggage consisted of a little box that held my clothes. I wanted to know Mexico City as I had never been anywhere before. We took the train the next morning and arrived in Tacuba, where we stayed. After working for him for a while, he threw me out. We had a quarrel over the weights of a scale. He was looking for an excuse to throw me out. You know how people are when they see someone more ignorant and illiterate than themselves! They do what they want, no? At that time I had just come from an
hacienda
and I didn’t know anything! My eyes were blindfolded. I didn’t know a single street! I had already used up the little money I had. There I was without a
centavo
and not knowing a soul.
Well, as some people say, “Where everything else is wanting, God steps in.” There was a man who worked in a mill nearby. He used to pass by every day. One day he saw me and told me his boss wanted me to work for his mill. That night I was standing on the street corner with my little box of clothes under my arm, without a
centavo
, without any idea of what to do. If I had had money, I would have gone back to my homeland. At that moment this man passed by as if he had fallen from the sky. He said to me, “What are you doing here?” I told him. He said, “Don’t you worry. Let’s go to my house and I’ll find you a job.” But there was that union business. The next day we went to see his boss. He told me I had to be in the union to work in his mill. I didn’t even have a
centavo
. We had come from La Tlaxpana and I walked nearly to Tepito. The millers’ union was there. They asked me how much money I had on me. When they found out, they said nothing could be done. So I went all the way back on foot, without a bit of food in my stomach, There I was back in the same situation, goinghungry. That’s why I sometimes scold my children, because I’ve always given them food and a roof over their heads.
So I started going to the grocery stores to see if anyone was looking for an errand boy or helper. I knew something about the grocery business and could wait on customers rapidly. I went from store to store with no luck. There was bread everywhere and me so hungry, you have no idea how it feels. After a few days I met a man in La Tlaxpana, a block from where I was staying. He had a grocery store. He asked me, “Do you want a job?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have references?”
“No, sir. I just arrived from Veracruz.” I was praying to God that he give me work or something. I explained that the only man I knew had a mill nearby. He went to speak to the man and then said he would take me on trial for two weeks. The pay was fifty
centavos
a day and food. There I was the next day with my package of clothes, for I had no place to leave it. I went to work at once. I was quick, I went around as if I were on wheels. I needed work, I had to eat. Two weeks went by, then a month, then three. I was very happy. I worked from six in the morning to nine at night without rest. I ate my breakfast cold in the store, there was no time to warm it. There were many customers. I delivered orders and lugged boxes I could barely lift, cases of beer, sacks of salt.
One morning my boss brought another boy from a village and he said to me, “Hey, Jesús, come over here. This boy is going to take your place. You’re no damned good, get out.” With those sweet and comforting words he fired me. That’s all there was to it. There was nothing to be said. The next morning I was out on
centavos
a day, not even enough for food. I was very hungry and passed whole days without food or with only one meal a day. That’s why I say, I had no childhood. I worked this way for about four years.
Then I met a Spaniard who owned a corn mill. He knew I had some experience with scales and weighing and one day he said to me, “I am going to Mexico City. If you want to come, I can give you work.”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready.” All my baggage consisted of a little box that held my clothes. I wanted to know Mexico City as I had never been anywhere before. We took the train the next morning and arrived in Tacuba, where we stayed. After working for him for a while, he threw me out. We had a quarrel over the weights of a scale. He was looking for an excuse to throw me out. You know how people are when they see someone more ignorant and illiterate than themselves! They do what they want, no? At that time I had just come from an
hacienda
and I didn’t know anything! My eyes were blindfolded. I didn’t know a single street! I had already used up the little money I had. There I was without a
centavo
and not knowing a soul.
Well, as some people say, “Where everything else is wanting, God steps in.” There was a man who worked in a mill nearby. He used to pass by every day. One day he saw me and told me his boss wanted me to work for his mill. That night I was standing on the street corner with my little box of clothes under my arm, without a
centavo
, without any idea of what to do. If I had had money, I would have gone back to my homeland. At that moment this man passed by as if he had fallen from the sky. He said to me, “What are you doing here?” I told him. He said, “Don’t you worry. Let’s go to my house and I’ll find you a job.” But there was that union business. The next day we went to see his boss. He told me I had to be in the union to work in his mill. I didn’t even have a
centavo
. We had come from La Tlaxpana and I walked nearly to Tepito. The millers’ union was there. They asked me how much money I had on me. When they found out, they said nothing could be done. So I went all the way back on foot, without a bit of food in my stomach, There I was back in the same situation, goinghungry. That’s why I sometimes scold my children, because I’ve always given them food and a roof over their heads.
So I started going to the grocery stores to see if anyone was looking for an errand boy or helper. I knew something about the grocery business and could wait on customers rapidly. I went from store to store with no luck. There was bread everywhere and me so hungry, you have no idea how it feels. After a few days I met a man in La Tlaxpana, a block from where I was staying. He had a grocery store. He asked me, “Do you want a job?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have references?”
“No, sir. I just arrived from Veracruz.” I was praying to God that he give me work or something. I explained that the only man I knew had a mill nearby. He went to speak to the man and then said he would take me on trial for two weeks. The pay was fifty
centavos
a day and food. There I was the next day with my package of clothes, for I had no place to leave it. I went to work at once. I was quick, I went around as if I were on wheels. I needed work, I had to eat. Two weeks went by, then a month, then three. I was very happy. I worked from six in the morning to nine at night without rest. I ate my breakfast cold in the store, there was no time to warm it. There were many customers. I delivered orders and lugged boxes I could barely lift, cases of beer, sacks of salt.
One morning my boss brought another boy from a village and he said to me, “Hey, Jesús, come over here. This boy is going to take your place. You’re no damned good, get out.” With those sweet and comforting words he fired me. That’s all there was to it. There was nothing to be said. The next morning I was out on
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