Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

looked at Miguel. He quickly turned his head away from her and looked hard out the window, but she saw that his eyes were damp. She had never thought about how much her papa must have meant to Miguel. It dawned on her that even though Miguel was a servant, Papa may have thought of him as the son he never had. But Papa’s influence was gone. What would happen to Miguel’s dreams now?
    â€œAnd in the United States?” she asked quietly.
    â€œI hear that in the United States, you do not need
una palanca
. That even the poorest man can become rich if he works hard enough.”

    They had been on the train for four days and nights when a woman got on with a wire cage containing six red hens. The chickens squawked and cackled and when they flapped their wings, tiny russet feathers floated around the car. The woman sat opposite Mama and Hortensia and within minutes she had told them that her name was Carmen, that her husband had died and left her with eight children, and that she had been at her brother’s house helping his family with a new baby.
    â€œWould you like
dulces,
sweets?” she asked Esperanza, holding open a bag.
    Esperanza looked at Mama, who smiled and nodded her approval.
    Esperanza hesitantly reached inside and took out a square of coconut candy. Mama had never permitted her to take candy from someone she didn’t know before, especially from a poor person.
    â€œSeñora, why do you travel with the hens?” asked Mama.
    â€œI sell eggs to feed my family. My brother raises hens and he gave these to me.”
    â€œAnd you can support your large family that way?” asked Hortensia.
    Carmen smiled. “I am poor, but I am rich. I have my children, I have a garden with roses, and I have my faith and the memories of those who have gone before me. What more is there?”
    Hortensia and Mama smiled, nodding their heads. And after a few thoughtful moments, Mama was blotting away stray tears.
    The three women continued talking as the train passed fields of corn, orange orchards, and cows grazing on rolling hills. They talked as the train traveled through small towns, where peasant children ran after the caboose, just for the sake of running. Soon, Mama was confiding in Carmen, telling her all that had happened with Papa and Tío Luis. Carmen listened and made clucking noises like one of her hens, as if she understood Mama’s and Esperanza’s problems. Esperanza looked from Mama to Carmen to Hortensia. She was amazed at how easily Carmen had plopped herself down and had plunged into intimate conversation. It didn’t seem correct somehow. Mama had always been so proper and concerned about what was said and not said. In Aguascalientes, she would have thought it was “inappropriate” to tell an egg woman their problems, yet now she didn’t hesitate.
    â€œMama,” whispered Esperanza, taking on a tone she had heard Mama use many times. “Do you think it is
wise
to tell a peasant our personal business?”
    Mama tried not to smile. She whispered back, “It is all right, Esperanza, because now we are peasants, too.”
    Esperanza ignored Mama’s comment. What was wrong with her? Had all of Mama’s rules changed since they had boarded this train?
    When they pulled into Carmen’s town, Mama gave her three of the beautiful lace
carpetas
she had made. “For your house,” she said.
    Carmen gave Mama two chickens, in an old shopping bag that she tied with string. “For your future,” she said.
    Then Mama, Hortensia, and Carmen hugged as if they had been friends forever.
    â€œ
Buena suerte,
good luck,” they said to one another.
    Alfonso and Miguel helped Carmen with her packages and the cage of chickens. When Miguel got back on the train, he sat next to Esperanza, near the window. They watched Carmen greet her waiting children, several of the little ones scrambling into her arms.
    In front of the station, a crippled