Written by Coco Quarles | Photography by Jaime Wolfe
What does it mean to leave behind everything familiar — your homeland, your language, your family — and begin again in a country that will one day become home? For me, the answer has been found not only in hardship and sacrifice, but in faith, family, and the quiet assurance that God was guiding my steps long before I understood where the journey would lead. And when I look back, I can see how every season — from my childhood in Mexico to becoming an American citizen — was preparing me for a story I never knew I would write. For years, I thought my story was simply about survival. Looking back now, I realize it was really a message about God’s provision. Every difficult season, every heartbreak, every closed door, and every unexpected blessing became part of the journey that eventually led me to call America home.
I was born and raised in Monterrey, Nuevo León, Mexico, nearly fifty-five years ago. Monterrey is known as one of Mexico’s most prosperous and industrial cities, surrounded by breathtaking mountains and alive with business and tourism. But when I think of home, I do not first think about the city skyline or the busy streets. I think about a tiny three-room house overflowing with love, laughter, and family. A home that held nine children — six brothers and two sisters besides me. We were raised by parents who worked incredibly hard despite having little formal education. We did not grow up with wealth, but we grew up rich in the things that mattered most: gratitude, togetherness, faith, and joy.
Eleven people lived inside that little house, but somehow it never felt small. The closeness of our home created closeness within our hearts, and to this day, my siblings and I remain deeply connected. Those connections are rooted in the teachings of Jesus that were practiced by my parents through sacrifice, kindness, humility, and love. That became their legacy to all of us and eventually ours to our own children. My journey with the United States began during my college years. I first visited during the summers as part of school trips. Those early visits were filled with excitement and possibility. During one of those summers at Louisiana Tech University, I met the man who would later become my husband, and shortly afterward I moved to the United States.
But life did not unfold the way I imagined it would. After struggling through personal difficulties in our marriage, we moved back to Mexico to rebuild our lives near my family. During those years, we welcomed our three beautiful children — Dylan, Sarah, and Christopher. Although my children were born in Mexico, they were recognized as American citizens through their father. I quickly learned, however, that being married to an American citizen did not automatically provide citizenship or security for me.
In the early 2000s, violence and kidnappings connected to cartel activity escalated throughout parts of Mexico and my husband and I became increasingly fearful for our children’s safety. Because he was American, he stood out, and we worried constantly about what could happen to our family. Eventually, his family helped us relocate permanently to the United States. This move felt completely different from the carefree summer trips I had taken years earlier. This time, I carried fear, uncertainty, grief, and hope all at once. I hoped for healing within my family and stability for my children, but I also feared leaving behind the support of my own family in Mexico.
Only months after arriving in Louisiana, my mother unexpectedly passed away. I barely had time to grieve because survival became my priority. I found myself trying to protect my children while navigating deep struggles within my marriage and difficult family dynamics. There were moments when I felt completely alone, but even during the hardest years of my life, I can now see that God was already carrying me. One of the first moments that deeply strengthened my faith happened after my mother’s funeral. At the time, I was still in the middle of the immigration process and was not supposed to leave the country. Crossing back into the United States carried enormous risk. Before returning, I remember praying a very simple prayer: “Lord, if your plan is for me to be in the United States, you will make a way for me to return safely.”
And He did. That moment became the beginning of a completely different relationship with God. From then on, I began seeing His hand in every chapter of my life. Through jobs, friendships and loyal customers I served in a local restaurant, who eventually became my family – countless unexpected blessings began to unfold. I was surrounded by a peace and joy that made no sense considering the circumstances through which I was living.
Looking back, I truly believe that joy I had was a gift from God — something He placed inside me so I could endure emotional, financial, and verbal hardships without losing hope.
Years later, another extraordinary moment would completely change my future in America. My green card was nearing expiration, and I felt overwhelmed by the thought of the process involved in becoming a United States Citizen. It was expensive, intimidating, and emotionally exhausting. I was already working two jobs – teaching by day and working as a waitress at night and on weekends. One weekend, while driving home from visiting my daughter who was at school in New Orleans, I began talking openly with God. I told Him I trusted Him to handle the situation, because I simply did not know how I was going to manage it myself.
By the next morning, I felt emotionally drained. Sitting in my parked vehicle before walking into school, I prayed once more. This time, I surrendered not only my immigration worries, but every problem I was facing, as well. I told God, “You know I work almost 70 hours a week. I trust you to do something amazing again.” Less than fifteen minutes later, my principal called me into his office and at first, I was nervous. That quickly changed. He gently explained that someone anonymously wanted to pay for me to become an American citizen — including hiring an attorney to handle the entire process. I could barely speak through my tears. I had just placed my fears into God’s hands, and suddenly the answer was standing directly in front of me.
All I had left to do was study the 100 citizenship questions for my interview. I passed and was recommended for citizenship, immediately. A month later, I stood in the naturalization ceremony and officially became an American citizen. In that moment, I felt relief, peace, and belonging. I came to understand that worry is fear that things won’t go well while faith is trusting God to make things better. Today, I serve as a Spanish teacher at Word of God Academy, but teaching has become so much more than academics for me. Through culture, language, and personal testimony, I try to help students understand the importance of loving their neighbors — including immigrants who may have difficult stories of their own.
People often ask if I miss Mexico. What I miss most is not necessarily food or traditions, though I cherish those memories too. What I truly miss are the moments. I miss my mama sitting in her rocking chair outside our house while all of us gathered around waiting for “el señor de los elotes,” the street corn vendor whose arrival somehow made an ordinary evening feel magical. Those are the memories that stay with me.
Everything about my journey has strengthened my desire to serve God by helping shape compassionate, faith-filled young people. I openly share the testimonies of how God carried my family through hardship because I want students to understand that faith is not just something we speak about — it is something that sustains us.
As America celebrates 250 years of independence, I see this country through the lens of gratitude. America gave my children opportunities, friendships, education, and a future. But I have never forgotten the country that shaped me first. Instead, I carry both cultures proudly. My Mexican roots taught me faith, family, and resilience. America gave me opportunity, belonging, and freedom.
To me, being American means carrying a responsibility to give back to the country that welcomed my family and allowed us to build a better life. And if my story proves anything, I hope it reminds others that God never wastes our pain. Sometimes the hardest journeys become the very testimony that allows us to encourage someone else walking through darkness toward hope.