Eli, Paco y Seb 2


He’s a bit of a parrot
Hence me calling him
Paco Pacorro is a given.
He’ll be a great politician
There is only white or black with him
Either you go to the right
Or the left
There is no in-between.
He is what we call
“Gente de raza”
In other words
He is from the hood
He may be 5
But sometimes
It feels like
He is 15
One either adores him
Or hates him.

But the core of it all
He is humble
And although sometimes
He looks like a troublemaker
He’ll stand for what’s right.

This is the introduction of the 5-year-old.

A few days ago
Seb, the 3-year-old
Came running from his room
And as soon as he saw Paco.

He stopped and practically commanded
With a playful voice,
“Paacooo, open your moudth and say aaahh!!

Paco who was playing with legos
Looked at him and followed along, “Aaaaahhh.”

Seb started laughing and saying, “haha you missing a toodth! Hahaha”

Paco turn his head towards me and shouted,
“Mooommm, tell him to stooopp!”

I just couldn’t stop laughing
I wasn’t expecting that.
It was hard to stop laughing
And be showing anger…

Eli, Paco and Seb

Seb, my 3-year-old
was playing with his books
Not reading them
But throwing
Smashing things with them
I had to stop him.

I told him
Books are not balls
Books are not toys
They are a path
For you to walk on
To learn new things
To discover magic places
To reach the stars
Without wearing an astronaut suit.

To my surprise
Later that day
He made a path alright
With all his books!!
He had such an angelic smile
I couldn’t argue
I lost this one…

When tomorrow comes

Baby can you see?
The stars are almost unseen
Come here…
Let me sing you a song
Of back in the day…
Twinkle, twinkle little star…

But momma,
What’s a twinkling star?

They are like lights in the sky.
We have changed them
For lights on the streets…

Baby, can you hear?
The movements and honks
Of the cars
No more serenade
From crickets in the night.

What are crickets momma?

Hmm? They were jumpy little fellows.
You see, even as small as they were
they had long and thin legs.
And boooy if they sang with them!
As if breathing for dear life.

Baby, can you smell?

The green stuff from over there?

Yes, the residual smell
From those manufactures…
There was a time
When the fragrance of gardenias
Was in the air.

What are gar, gard, garnas?

Gar-de-nias, they were flowers
White as snow
So fragile to this soil
They smelled sweet
Unlike this rusty metal floor.

Baby, see these seeds?
They are my last hope.
Promise me,
If some day we find a good soil
Let’s settle there
And see them grow.

Momma, can these pebbles grow?

Yes, if you take care of them
They need a good soil
They need water and sun
They are our last hope.

So promise me…
Even if you walk alone
If you see a good soil
Give these little seeds
A chance to fulfill their role.

Why alone momma?

Ah, well, just like the wind,
It comes from nothing
And goes without stopping.
It gives a twirl here and there
And also a light breeze
To whoever is there.
That’s how our fleeting life is.

Aww, don’t be sad baby
I’m here
And will always be here
In this little heart
And in this little mind.

You see,
It doesn’t matter whether
It’s the old days or today.
As long as there is love
We can find a new way…