needing supplies .” We had heard about Mexican people walking north but had never encountered any .

We walked around outside , looking in all directions from our house , thinking we might still see them . All we saw was the vast desert .

My feelings instantly changed , as I thought about people walking far from home across this very rugged and difficult country . My anger dissolved and I felt like maybe we had been of some help to them . After all , they had only taken necessities and didn ’ t seem to have disturbed anything else .

Charlie agreed . “ Well , let ’ s bring the rest of our stuff in from the car and have dinner .”

Beginning dinner preparations , we discovered some things missing from our refrigerator . Carrots , gone . Lunch meat , gone . Cheese , gone . Frozen shrimp ? ( Were these gourmet Mexicans ?) “ Oh dang !! My eggnog is gone !” Charlie slapped the counter with his hand . Suddenly this became personal . Charlie looked forward to his eggnog all year and had just bought it a few days earlier in Study Butte . But he burst out laughing and we both let go of some of our tension , just laughing .

Strange beyond all else , they had taken my mother ’ s 50-year-old little popsicle mold that was in the freezer . “ Oh come on , it ’ s December ... what did they need popsicles for ? What can they possibly need my mom ’ s mold for ?” A little more feeling of loss crept into my good feelings of helping these people with their trek . My mother had died 40 years ago , and it was another part of her gone . For days , I looked and looked all around and never did find it .

Over the next days , especially when we went to eat something or cook something we noticed a few more things missing . It was puzzling to us that they left their water bottle — we have a 3,000 gallon water tank right next to the house with a hose attached to it . We would have thought that water would be the main incentive to come to a house . We wondered if maybe they had heard our car coming and had run off , accidentally leaving it behind .

We didn ’ t know whether to report this . We called it a “ visit ” since it wasn ’ t really a breakin ; we don ’ t lock our doors . We live so far from anyone else , someone wanting in would have all the time in the world . So we don ’ t bother . Saves a broken window or door . At that point , we hadn ’ t heard any stories of break-ins in our area , nor of Mexican people searching for supplies as they crossed the dry and rugged landscape through Big Bend National Park , then Terlingua Ranch , and northward . Later , as we told others about our experience , we did start to hear stories .

We were more curious than anything . Who were these folks and where were they from ? Where did they likely cross ? Which way did they probably go from our house ? So we called a man we knew of who was the Border Patrol agent in Big Bend National Park at that time . We had played music with his son , who was a student at Terlingua High School . He came out to our house a day or so later and we all pored over a relief map we had of BBNP and the surrounding area . Mark showed us the likely route the people had taken , saying that it wasn ’ t a usual route , that they probably had gotten lost . He speculated that they had hired

a “ coyote ,” a guide to help them cross the border , and that he had left them to find the rest of their way north , perhaps breaking their agreement . He figured they were lost and needed water and food , and obviously boots and packs .

Some days later , our local deputy Patrick came over , having heard about this , and brought photos of items that had been retrieved from some Mexican people who were picked up . None of it was ours . We told him we were not really looking for our things to be returned .

As days went by , we did hear of a few other “ visits ” that sounded similar to ours . One neighbor about three miles away had alcohol and guns visible in their home and they were not taken , only food and water .

It is hard to imagine what it would be like , being out in this wilderness with only a rough idea of where you are headed , not knowing how long it will take to get somewhere you feel safe , not knowing where you will find water , let alone food .

After this happened , we started leaving a covered plastic container of bottled water and canned foods ( and a can opener ) on our patio with a note in Spanish inviting future “ visitors ” to help themselves to food and water . In these years since , no one has ever taken any of this . And still , every time we return from a day in Alpine , we go into our house watchfully .

By the way , I bought a new popsicle mold , so we have popsicles again . But I ’ m still looking for my mother ’ s when I ’ m walking near our house .