I grew up in San Antonio and I have very, very fond memories of coming home from school and eating tortillas on the back steps of our neighbor's home.  My mother was working and I walked home every day from 4th grade with my friend Gloria.  Her mom always had tortillas ready for us, hot and waiting.  She would throw them out the screen door to us and tell us to sit down on the steps to eat before we even came in the house.  She didn't want us to drop anything on her sparkling clean kitchen floor.  To this day, a hot flour tortilla takes me back to that space and time.  

– Judy Matetzschk-Campbell

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more