Mi Tia Ana
Cuando yo era nina
me gustaba mucho ir a casa
de mi abuela, porque alli vive mi Tia Ana, hija menor de mi mama. Mi tia es madre soltera, tiene una hija.
Cuando yo era nina me gustaba
mucho estar con ella y de carino me decia, “Mi Zenaida”. A todos mis primos y hermanos
siempre queriamos estar con ella.
Ella rodeada de todos nosotros, nos contaba
historias que a ella le sucudian ,o historias basadas
en cuentos. Nos contaba historias de terror, a mi
me encantaba. Asi
es mi tia, muy fantaciosa.
Me acerque tanto a ella
que cuando yo tenia 12 anos
le contaba cosas que a nadie le decia, nada mas a ella. A ella
le gustaba que yo confiara en ella. Me escuchaba
y me aconsejaba. Yo
la quiero mucho. Tambien recuerdo mucho sus historias,
Ahora que voy a casa de mi abuela mis hijos
preguntan, “Donde esta mi Tia Ana?”, y contesta mi tia de su cuarto,
“Aqui estoy, mis ninos!”. Y corren a ella,
de hecho ella ya tiene su
historia preparada para mis hijos,
y yo feliz de que esten con ella.
My Aunt Ana
When I was a girl I liked very much to go to my
grandmother’s house, because my Aunt Ana lives there. She’s the younger
daughter of my grandmother, and sister of my Mom. My Aunt is a single parent of
one daughter.
When I was a girl I
liked very much to be with her, and she affectionately called me,“ Mi Zenaida”. My brothers,
sisters, and cousins always wanted to be with her too. She was always surrounded by us, telling us
stories that happened to her, or stories from books. She also told us scary
stories, and I loved them. Very imaginative, that’s how my aunt is.
When I was 12 years old
I became so close to her, I’d tell her things that I wouldn’t tell anyone else.
Only to her, and she liked that I would confide in her. She always would listen
to me and advise me.
To this day I love her very much. I also remember many of her stories,
like the one about man without a head riding a horse, and the time I swallowed
an orange seed she told me it would grow into a little orange tree in my
stomach. That scared me! So many stories she told me...
And so years have
passed, and now when I go to my grandmother’s house my children ask, “Where’s
my Aunt Ana?!” And she answers from her room, “Here I am, my children!” And
they run to her, she has her story prepared for them.
And I am very happy that
they are there with her.
Griselda Lopez,