I recently visited with an immigrant family from Costa Rica. The wife and husband have four kids: three girls and one boy, all high school age or older. None of them has any papers. I'm changing their names to protect their identity, and I'm going to feature their children in the final article of this series (about immigrant childern in our school systems).

But I'd like to share some of their story now, especially since I won't be able to tell all of it in the article.

Clara and her husband, Salvador, came to America in 1999 with their four children -- the eldest, Maria, their son Miguel, and the two younger daughters, Anna and Emilia. The family flew into the US legally, passports and all, expecting to obtain their Legal Permanent Residence (LPR) papers, if not US Citizenship.

9/11 destroyed their dreams. Subsequent legislation, passed in a reaction to the terrorist attacks, changed immigration laws and prevented the family from gaining the necessary paperwork. Now they live in Sussex County "illegally," with no hope of becoming American citizens -- unless they return to Costa Rica, and hope against the odds to get readmitted into the US.

Clara and her family were very candid about life without proper identification. Clara, Salvador, Maria, and Miguel were able to obtain Driver's Licenses five years ago. New Jersey ID requirements were too strict even back then, though, so the four had to fly to Michigan to get them. The licenses expire this year, on each person's date of birth. Salvador's is already expired; it cost him his job as a truck driver. Clara's won't be usable in a couple of months, and she's not sure how she'll be able to get to her job in Sparta. (The other states have caught up to NJ requirements, so the family won't be able to renew their licenses.)

Anna, the middle daughter, is entering her junior year in high school. She plays on her school's soccer team and is a member of both the Student Council and Peer Leadership programs. Her friends don't know her situation, and she knows she'll face tough questions when she is the only one without a license. Evem thornier is the issue of what she'll do after graduation, since she won't be able to attend college like her classmates.

Despite the difficulty of their life, Clara and her family were adamant that I know that they pay taxes. "When we work, we pay taxes, but nobody expects that. They think we steal, but that's not true. We pay taxes, we work just like any other American," Clara explains. Salvador adds, "We pay rent, we pay bills...it's the same for so many families we know."

Clara and Maria explained that they pay taxes using a tax ID number. (I'm still trying to corroborate this information.) They told me that immigrants often apply to the IRS -- and immigration services is apparently unaware of this -- for the tax ID. Since IRS wants the migrants' tax money, it issues the number, which the workers then use to obtain jobs and pay taxes. (Many jobs require more than just a tax ID number, though; most need a SSN.)

When I asked why they stay, despite all of the hardships, Clara told me this: "When we came here, we came happy, with all of our hope..We stay here because we know it's difficult for [our kids] to go back. They have all their friends here. Here is a better life."

Salvador just laughed. "I wanted to go back," he confesses. "Every year, you say maybe this year, maybe this president...without papers, you can get jobs, but no good jobs... But here, if things aren't easy, every Latin American country, it's worse. The economy's no good, the job's no good. I talk with my sister, and she says 'No, stay here, fight.'"