Some of you that know me will know right away where this is going... NO it is not some Latin pool boy I am lusting after, it was my garden friend Antonio.  Many years ago it was winter.  I had contractors working on some shutters at the front of the house.  The contractor had a Mexican man working for him.  It was a very cold day and he worked alone.  I went out and took him coffee and hot chocolate.  It was obvious he did not speak a lick of English.  Work in the winter for migrant workers is sparse and I got the feeling his "boss" was not really doing Antonio right. (southern speak)  He never returned to bring him lunch or a drink and it was really COLD that day.  I brought him inside much to his no, no, no and fed him lunch.  It took awhile but before he left that day he looked at me and said in broken English "I work for you?"  I was so surprised I just nodded.  The next Saturday he showed up with gloves in his hands.  That started a friendship that still brings tears to my eyes.  Antonio was the hardest worker you have ever seen.  In Spring we worked side by side putting in the garden, pulling weeds, trimming shrubs.  He would teach me Spanish and I taught him some English.  We would laugh at our efforts.  He helped move John's parents to the Nursing home and helped me clean out their home.  I never had to tell him what to do he just did it.  He even put his wife back in Mexico on the phone one day to say hello to me.  He was proud of his children back in Mexico. They went to private  school and learned the internet.  I am doubtful Antonio could read.  Every Saturday for over 2 years Antonio came to work for me.  I learned how hard it was for him to cross the border and how he slept in the desert during the day and then would travel at night.  His smugglers would give him one sandwich a day.  The day came when Antonio announced that he would be going back to Mexico in October it was time for him to see his family again.   I researched ways to bring Antonio back legally, without any luck.  It was July or so Antonio came to work but he was sad I could tell.  I said to him what is it Antonio.  He said his brother had been killed the night before and it was time for him to go home, his mother needed him.   I asked him how do you get back so fast?  I knew that each week that the Mexicans wire their money back to their families.  It was Saturday how could he wait with a funeral back in Mexico?  I told him to stop working and I would take him home to pack, I took his ID and went to the Airport so that I could buy him a ticket home.    As most of you know traveling after 9/11 was insane.  I knew the best way was to take Antonio to Atlanta.  The trip was quiet.  When we arrived and got him checked in I worried about him being able to get through security .... As we approached the area where I had to say goodbye a well dressed family speaking Spanish could see that I was visibly upset and worried about him.  The woman took my hand and said that she would help him as his flight was running late.. Amazing how people can show up right when you need them.  I hugged Antonio goodbye.   A few years have passed, I keep thinking that some Saturday Antonio will show up with his gloves and say "I work for you"?  but it is Spring and no Antonio.  There will be no other.  I think when the children are grown I am going to find Antonio and his family in Mexico City!  Imagine his face when he answers the door HOLA!!!