I can stand only so much of the Occupy Wall Street crowd. At best, they are brats so spoiled by our nanny state that they believe everything should be free.

Nothing is free, and if they visited the farm working folks of the Wahluke and Royal Slopes, they'd learn how you really go about getting what you want.

The contrast between Occupy Wall Street and my people - I grew up a farm worker - is stark. Occupy Wall Street hates America and wants to tear it down. My people love America and want to be part of it.

As hard as that life was for my seven brothers and sisters and me, we were grateful for the opportunity to work. We were able to pay rent and buy food, clothing and shoes.

Today's farm workers, mostly from Mexico, generally think the same. Whether they come legally or not, they are grateful for the opportunity to survive and, hopefully, prosper.

My people know one key gift of information the Occupy Wall Streeters don't want to understand. If there ever was or will be a utopian state, this is it.

At least that's what Mrs. Mendoza believes. I met her recently, and we had a chance to chat, but I didn't note her first name.

Mrs. Mendoza came from Mexico, a country that broke her and her husband.

"The economy," she said. "You think it's bad here? This isn't bad."

The Mendozas had a pharmacy, which included massage therapy, in the heart of Guadalajara, Mexico's second city.

Mr. Mendoza was an educated, certified pharmacist. Mrs. Mendoza was an educated, certified massage therapist. No matter. They went broke.

"Some days we made a little money. Some days we didn't make any," Mrs. Mendoza said.

The Mendozas, who have four adopted children and three born to them, came to America legally about seven years ago to start life "from the bottom" again.

Not as proud or statusy as the Occupy Wall Streeters, the Mendozas went right to work picking cherries and other fruit.

"We picked three bins of apples (together) when we started," Mrs. Mendoza said. "We weren't very good. We were just grateful we could pick apples."

By the end of the first season, the Mendozas were picking 12-14 bins. That's what some individuals were doing, but the Mendozas were elated.

"We needed to pay rent and buy a car," Mrs. Mendoza said.

At the end of the third season, the Mendozas were up to 18 bins as a couple. They were just better than some individuals, but they were content.

"We were just grateful for the opportunity to earn a living," Mrs. Mendoza said.

About a year ago, Mrs. Mendoza, who's been learning English, started to study massage therapy again. She recently took the licensing exam and failed by one incorrect answer.

"My English tripped me," she said.

No matter. Mrs. Mendoza will pay another $200 and re-take the test. She'll take it until she passes.

Mr. Mendoza, who is proud of being a forklift driver now, has been inquiring about what he needs to do to get back into pharmacy. Whatever it is, he plans to do it.

"That's why we came - for the opportunity to have a better life," Mrs. Mendoza said. "It surprises me how many people who were born here don't take advantage."