Francisco de Paula Ortiz lives and works alone in a small room, fighting against loneliness. ". . . I could die there and no one would notice," Ortiz says. (3 of 5)
"Sometimes I have the urge to cry, because I could die there and no one would notice," Francisco says one day as we sit under the almond tree in front of his home and barbershop.

Francisco immigrated from Nicaragua, fleeing a worsening economy and a war that claimed his parents. Now his daily routine includes picking up his mattress from the middle of his room, leaning it against the wall, and replacing it with a barber's chair.

Every evening he closes his door and window, shutting himself away from the world. He lives alone. He has never married, although he has three children who also live in Santa Cruz. He has little contact with them.

"I sleep alone," Francisco says to me one night as we sit in the rocking chairs beneath the almond tree. On this night, as on many others, Francisco insisted I stay a bit longer so he could think of more to share. "We will be here talking, then you go and I will lay here alone."

Yet, Francisco maintains his faith and spirit. One of his two facing wall mirrors has a crack straight down the middle and in the upper right corner there is a sticker. It says, "Cristo me hizo libre," Christ has made me free, with a cross between two broken chains.

"I am not alone because I ask God to accompany me," he says.

--Mónika Lugo