At home, a family sits down for dinner and thanks Jesus for it.
At some forgotten field, a Mexican man named Jesús removes his hat, wipes the sweat from his forehead, and silently thanks them for his job—where he earns a dollar for every box of vegetables he picks, from the earliest hour of the morning to the last drop of the beautiful sun that becomes unbearable by midday.
This is his American Dream, as an undocumented worker running from a country that gave him no opportunities and is at war with itself.