Rosa in Bloom
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Rosa is unable to find her voice in a culture that clashes with her home life. Her feelings do not seem to matter to the other members of her family. She feels overwhelmed by responsibility and very alone in the world. Then, one moment of regret leads her to realize that there is always more than one way to look at a situation.
Janet Rhyme Key
Janet Rhyme Key writes both fiction and non-fiction for children. She is an animal advocate, an amateur painter and the proud aunt of ten girls. She lives in Riverside County, California with her husband, Paul.
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Rosa in Bloom - Janet Rhyme Key
2013 Janet Rhyme Key. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 02/18/2016
ISBN: 978-1-4817-1956-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4817-1955-1 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013903203
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Rosa in Bloom
About the Author
Spanish-English Translations
Abuela – Grandmother
Angélica – little angel
Avenida - Avenue
Calle Robles – Oak Street
Charra – cowgirl
Charro – cowboy
El Camino Real – The Grand Road
Flán – a Mexican caramel custard
Golondrinas – swallows
Hijo - son
Lotería – lottery
Mercado – market
Mexicano - Mexican
Mi querido – my dear
Ortega – hen
Obispo – Bishop
Rio - river
Tabla – card (like a Bingo card)
Via Flora – Flower Way
Chapter One
Rosa scrambled to find her black sneaker. She would have to change her clothes if she couldn’t find it. The clothes she was wearing wouldn’t go with white shoes. She knew it was just a matter of seconds before she would hear her grandmother’s irritated voice calling to her from the foot of the stairs. Her grandmother was always irritated.
Rosa, let’s get going! The birds are not going to wait for you!
her grandmother called.
One more minute, Abuela,
Rosa answered. She didn’t understand the need to hurry to the mission, only to end up waiting for the swallows to show up. The family had made the journey every year for the past five years, and they always ended up waiting.
She got down on her bedroom floor and looked under her bed. She spied her book bag, bulging with pens and pencils. She grabbed its handle and pulled it towards her. Her sneaker was now in sight, but she had to crawl under the bed to get her fingers around it.
Rosa, if you are not down here in one minute, you will be punished,
her grandmother called.
Rosa grabbed her sneaker, sat upright and sneezed. She hadn’t vacuumed under her bed in a long time. The sneaker was still laced, so she stood up, pulled it on, grabbed a tissue, and made her way to her bedroom door.
I’m coming!
she called to her grandmother, a tiny woman with a big voice. Rosa never seemed to be able to make her happy, and their conversations often left Rosa feeling sad and defeated.
Rosa finally made her way to the upstairs hallway. She stopped to catch her breath at the top of the stairs. Her mother, father, grandmother, and little brother, Ricky stood in the foyer, waiting for her. Even Ricky seemed to be irritated with her.
Rosa, is that any way to talk to your Abuela?
her father responded. The look on his face was stern.
I’m sorry, Abuela,
Rosa answered. I couldn’t find my sneaker, and …
Because you are not organized,
her grandmother interrupted. Rosa Maria, you are almost twelve years old! You are old enough to be responsible for your things.
Yes, Abuela,
Rosa answered, wishing she could spend just one day not having to hear her grandmother’s voice in her ear.
Rosa took the steps two at a time. At the bottom of the stairs, her mother handed her a pint of milk and a granola bar for the walk. She followed her family out the front door. This isn’t going to be fun, she thought.
As everyone made their way down Calle Robles, the sun began to show itself over the hilltops. The neighborhood, with its Spanish architecture and looming palm trees, slowly came to life. A neighbor’s voice rang out. Hello, Juanita! Hello, Ramon! Good morning, Mrs. Bonilla! Isn’t it a beautiful day?
Lovely!
Rosa’s mother answered.
Perfect!
Rosa’s father answered.
Please join us in our walk,
Rosa’s grandmother offered.
The group of travelers grew from five to seven, then to twelve. As the conversation grew louder and louder, Rosa was aware that Ricky was lurking behind her. Every so often, he would step on the heel of her sneaker. Finally, she’d had enough. She turned just in time to catch him lunging at her from behind. Stop that!
she shouted.
Stop what?
Ricky asked, smiling innocently.
Stop walking behind me and stepping on my heels, what do you think?
Rosa responded.
I wasn’t doing that, Baseball Bat!
Ricky answered with a devilish gleam in his eye.
Not much you weren’t,
Rosa answered in disgust. Oh, great. Now he’s rhyming again, she thought. He only did that to irritate her. He was nine years old, but to Rosa’s mind, he’d stopped maturing around his sixth birthday. She was tired of his childish ways, and she was tired of always having to be responsible for him.
Ricky, come up here by your father and me,
Mrs. Bonilla commanded. She had the same open face and sparkling eyes as her son. Rosa’s expression, on the other hand, held a serious, thoughtful look like her father’s.
By the time the Bonilla family entered the grounds of the mission, morning had broken. The sky was a beautiful pale blue and the lush grounds were glistening with dew.
Rosa’s grandmother stopped in front of the fountains, where white doves were taking their morning baths. Aren’t they lovely?
she commented. She stopped to admire the multi-colored flower gardens, the intricately designed cactus gardens, and the rose vines that covered the walls of the Old Stone Church. I never get tired of seeing this place!
she said. It’s so calming … so settling … especially in the morning.
Rosa loved the place, too. She just got tired of hearing about its history every year. She knew the story, and saw no reason to hear it yet again.
A podium and microphone had been set up in the Sacred Gardens, just west of The Old Stone Church. A crowd gathered to hear a Swallows Speaker tell the story of the swallows. He was a tall Native American in his twenties. Welcome to the Jewel of the Missions,
he said with the swipe of his arm. The crowd applauded. Each year on St Joseph’s Day, March 19, about two thousand swallows return to the Mission San Juan Capistrano, here in Orange County, California.
Oh, this is so exciting!
Rosa’s grandmother exclaimed.
"The story begins with the scout swallows, who return a few days early. It is their job to make sure everything is safe for the main flock to arrive. As soon as the swallows arrive,