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The huddled masses who toil in kitchens, clean offices, remove asbestos, work in car washes - many living in fear of deportation - took to the streets on May Day to show the city what life would be like without them.

"I walked over the border from Tijuana all alone with no documents and I want my kids to see the power of solidarity," said Teodoro Lucero, 39, of Brooklyn, as he proudly marched down Broadway with his three young sons.

"When they get older, they will be able to say they were part of this."

After massing in immigrant neighborhoods around the city, marchers waving the flags of their homelands and the U.S., converged in Union Square for a rally that overtook the area, then slowly made their way downtown to Foley Square.

Similar demonstrations were staged all over the country, drawing millions.

But the most-poignant voices of protest belonged to the kids who have one foot in the U.S., the other in their homelands.

Brooklyn-born Yeslie Maldonado said her Mexican parents wanted her to stay in school yesterday. "I had to put up a fight with my parents to come, but they realized that this is important," said Yeslie, 14. "Immigrants are the heart of New York."

Education Department reported that 79% of students citywide showed up for school, down from 86% last Monday. And attendance was even lower in high schools, where 68% of kids were in class.

Plans for a nationwide "Day Without Immigrants" protest began germinating on Dec. 16 after the House passed a bill that would turn more than 11 million illegal immigrants into felons.

In New York, at exactly 12:16p.m., thousands linked hands across all five boroughs and peacefully vented their anger.

"We're only coming here to cook and clean, we're not criminals," said Maria Tenesaca, 44, an Ecuadoran immigrant who rallied in Battery Park with the Statue of Liberty as a backdrop.

Hundreds of neighborhood businesses - from Washington Heights to Port Richmond, S.I., to Hempstead, L.I. - shuttered their doors in support of the protest. Many marchers skipped work, risking firing.

"Not even half of the drivers came to work," said dispatcher Nelson Ramirez at the Audubon Car Service in Inwood.

Many businesses posted handwritten signs on their doors.

"Closed Today. We are Latinos," read one at La Fonda Boricua, a restaurant on E. 106th St. in East Harlem.

In Chinatown, rumors of a crackdown from immigration agents sabotaged a planned protest, and instead of the expected thousands just hundreds turned out and very few stores closed.

In the Bronx, thousands clogged busy Fordham Road at lunch hour and chanted, "Si, se puede [Yes, we can]."

Short-order cooks wearing grease-spattered aprons and schoolchildren in uniforms joined hands to form a human chain several blocks long.

"This is an immigrant country," said Ibelisse Espinosa, 36, a Bronx mom from the Dominican Republic. "The people who came here illegally should have the same rights as me."

In the Colombian enclave of Jackson Heights, Queens, thousands rallied on 37th Ave., waving flags and chanting, "We are here, we won't go back!"

But Edison Acosta, owner of Sazon y Sabor sandwich shop on 37th Ave., was miffed when most of his staff took the day off. "I had no people to work with," he said.

Several doors away, Jose Moreno, owner of Eldorado Perfumes, cheered the demonstrators from his empty store. "It's all right," he said. "I don't mind because I am an immigrant, too."

City Controller William Thompson said the protest's impact on New York was "more symbolic than economically destructive," even as hundreds of businesses closed in solidarity - or because of a lack of manpower.

Support for the protesters was generally strong - even among established New Yorkers.

"This country is based on immigrants - Irish, Italians - they have a right to fight," said Sal Gambino, 23, who works at G&G Meat Market and Grocery on Fifth Ave. "These people are the backbone of this country."

But in Harlem, construction foreman Keith Collins reflected the mixed feelings of some.

"Their loyalty is not to the United States financially," said Collins, 46, of Queens. "On the other side, nobody's going to do the work that they do ... without health benefits."

Here are some of the stories of those who marched yesterday:

'We choose democracy'

Tjouned (Titi) Titikpina was a thriving fashion designer with two dozen people working for him back home in the West African nation of Togo. Seven years ago, he followed his dream to make it big in America and never looked back.

With no papers, he still managed to open his own tailoring store on Jerome Ave. in the Bronx, where he creates elaborate African suits and dresses.

"When you want to do something, you better go for it," says Titikpina, 38, who speaks nine languages.

But anyone looking for a kente cloth wedding dress yesterday had to wait for another day because Titikpina closed shop to attend the rally.

"We are human beings. We choose love, we choose democracy," he says. "We are hardworking."

Austin Fenner

'I'm here to represent mom, dad'

Oscar Vargas, 10, was born in the U.S., but yesterday he showed up on behalf of his Mexican immigrant parents.

"When I hear people say illegal immigrant, I feel like an alien, like from Mars," he said. "Like some people always call me Taco Boy. I always say, 'What's wrong with tacos. They're pretty good.' "

Oscar's parents couldn't join the demonstration because they feared they'd lose their jobs. So he came with a neighbor.

"My dad wanted me to protest and my mom, too," he said. "So I came here to kind of represent them."

Oscar said he fears for his future. "You know how the Statue of Liberty is supposed to represent freedom?" he said. "Well, it doesn't anymore."

Lisa Muñoz

'I love the United States'

Michelle Lim, 33, of Brooklyn, didn't know about the protest yesterday until she happened upon it in Chinatown.

"I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to give something," she said.

She put on a white T-shirt that read "Stand Up for Immigrants" that organizers were distributing and marched down a crowded East Broadway under the Manhattan Bridge. Lim came to New York seven years ago, fleeing oppression of ethnic Chinese in her native Indonesia.

"I went to Taiwan, but Taiwan didn't accept me, so I came to New York," she said. "I want to stay. I love the United States."

Erin Einhorn

'I lost my job to be here today'

Silvya Garcia didn't expect that joining fellow immigrants in Brooklyn would cost her a job, but it did.

Garcia, 32, and five co-workers, all Mexican immigrants, got the heave-ho yesterday after asking their boss at a midtown cafe for the afternoon off.

When he said no, Garcia and her co-workers walked out. And as a result she lost her $9-an-hour cashier job of two years. "I lost my job to be here today," read a poster she held yesterday on Fifth Ave. in Sunset Park.

Jotham Sederstrom

'I'm a hard worker'

Enrique Melendez risked his job at a Brooklyn bodega to attend yesterday's rally. "My boss didn't know. I called him and said I'm not coming to work today. He wasn't happy. I might be without a job tomorrow," Melendez, 45, said. "But I really don't care because I believe I had to be here."

Melendez, who is from the Dominican Republic, entered the U.S. illegally in 1995, crossing the border in Arizona on foot with hardly any money.

He now works long weeks at a bodega on Myrtle Ave., and sends $400 every month for his wife, five children and ailing mother back home in Santiago.

"We're here in a common struggle," he said. "If I lose my job, I'll find another job. I'm a hard worker."