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""Leno and Maria: A Success Story"" by Vincent P. Cano - 1985
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CHAPTER THREE LENO AND MARIA Meanwhile, Zeferino managed to squeeze out a living as a salesman of wheat, corn, or meat. Anything that would bring a peso with which to put food on the table for his family. For days at a time he would be away from home in search of buyers for his cargo. In order to help Zeferino, Jesusa converted part of their home into a store from where she sold items her husband left behind. Of course, the children had more room in their new home but one fact in particular gave evidence of progress in their lives. Maria and Otilio (unlike children of their age of ten years ago) were able to give their age as a matter of fact and on more than once a year had the resources to taste the juice of the meat of the vaca. However, as hard as a child of this era tried, there was no release from the cold reality that the country was in the middle of a domestic revolution. It showed itself in one form or another in their every day lives. There was no escape except for those who were fortunate enough to live on or near the northern border. For them it was not uncommon to flee to the United States to wait for the Revolution to spend itself. Those who stayed, accepted it as a way of life, to be endured, to be lived, Perhaps, they thought of it as a price required to be paid for better things to come. It is early morning, the chores finished, and the smell of the mountain air incenses the rooms of the Rodriguez home. Today, Maria and Otilio will go to school. Tomorrow, who can tell as the comings and goings of the soldiers dictate the safety of the streets and rumors have it that today they are many days ride from the Valle. Jesusa has seated herself at the kitchen table in order to join her children before they will have to leave for school. There is a serious expression on her face as she begins to talk to her daughter. "Maria, we have been here in the Valle for seven years. You have learned well the duties of the home for which I am pleased. I am not pleased, however, with the progress you have made in school. I have no recourse but to discuss this attitude of yours with your father when he returns the day after tomorrow. Then, we will see what course of discipline will be followed." "But, mama, I do not like to go to school. Besides, I am afraid of the soldiers and the sound of the guns they shoot. Otilio, he walks too fast and leaves me behind,... you do too, Otilio!" "Otilio, is this true? Do not lie. Is it not enough that I must worry on your father while he is on the road. Not knowing what crazy person might stop and rob him. These are awfull times. When will it end? Get on to school as I hear a customer at the door. Otilio... take care of Maria." Jesusa orders as she walks to the front door. The two children slowly walk off in the direction of the school. Neither saying a word to the other as they pass people in the street huddled in twos and threes engrossed in serious gossip. As they turn a corner that leas to the town plaza, a group of women block their path. The sound of their singing catches Maria's 8.
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CHAPTER THREE LENO AND MARIA Meanwhile, Zeferino managed to squeeze out a living as a salesman of wheat, corn, or meat. Anything that would bring a peso with which to put food on the table for his family. For days at a time he would be away from home in search of buyers for his cargo. In order to help Zeferino, Jesusa converted part of their home into a store from where she sold items her husband left behind. Of course, the children had more room in their new home but one fact in particular gave evidence of progress in their lives. Maria and Otilio (unlike children of their age of ten years ago) were able to give their age as a matter of fact and on more than once a year had the resources to taste the juice of the meat of the vaca. However, as hard as a child of this era tried, there was no release from the cold reality that the country was in the middle of a domestic revolution. It showed itself in one form or another in their every day lives. There was no escape except for those who were fortunate enough to live on or near the northern border. For them it was not uncommon to flee to the United States to wait for the Revolution to spend itself. Those who stayed, accepted it as a way of life, to be endured, to be lived, Perhaps, they thought of it as a price required to be paid for better things to come. It is early morning, the chores finished, and the smell of the mountain air incenses the rooms of the Rodriguez home. Today, Maria and Otilio will go to school. Tomorrow, who can tell as the comings and goings of the soldiers dictate the safety of the streets and rumors have it that today they are many days ride from the Valle. Jesusa has seated herself at the kitchen table in order to join her children before they will have to leave for school. There is a serious expression on her face as she begins to talk to her daughter. "Maria, we have been here in the Valle for seven years. You have learned well the duties of the home for which I am pleased. I am not pleased, however, with the progress you have made in school. I have no recourse but to discuss this attitude of yours with your father when he returns the day after tomorrow. Then, we will see what course of discipline will be followed." "But, mama, I do not like to go to school. Besides, I am afraid of the soldiers and the sound of the guns they shoot. Otilio, he walks too fast and leaves me behind,... you do too, Otilio!" "Otilio, is this true? Do not lie. Is it not enough that I must worry on your father while he is on the road. Not knowing what crazy person might stop and rob him. These are awfull times. When will it end? Get on to school as I hear a customer at the door. Otilio... take care of Maria." Jesusa orders as she walks to the front door. The two children slowly walk off in the direction of the school. Neither saying a word to the other as they pass people in the street huddled in twos and threes engrossed in serious gossip. As they turn a corner that leas to the town plaza, a group of women block their path. The sound of their singing catches Maria's 8.
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