Circa 1991, playing in the barn at my grandparent’s home near Randolph Air Force Base outside of San Antonio, Texas, I saw an old mattress and pallets of blankets laid out on the dirt in an interior area of the barn.  This was a surprise, as the barn had long been out of use for anything more than a storage area for old rusted junk, with the exception of the coop at its front that housed the chickens when they weren’t out pecking alongside the goats.  In my ten-year-old mind, the building as a whole was an uncomfortable place full of wasps, spiders, and snakes (to say nothing of the unbearable heat), and I couldn’t imagine anyone would sleep in there.  When I told my mom about it, she told me that a Mexican family had been staying in the barn.  Grandma brought leftover food to them from time to time, and during the day they typically were gone, but just came there to sleep.  “How could they sleep in there?” I wondered. ...(Read Full Article)