When Mom Wore Concha Pasamar Braids
© Textos: Concha Pasamar © Ilustraciones: Concha Pasamar © de esta edición: bookolia
Colección: Ilustrados 1.a edición: noviembre de 2018 ISBN: 978-84-949117-0-5 Depósito legal: M-25267-2018 Impreso en UE Todos los derechos reservados
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The rain wouldn’t stop that Sunday.
I didn’t know with what else I could entertain myself, so I started snooping through the drawers. Inside one of them was a box, and inside that box was a whole world: Mom’s childhood.
She told me that Grandma would comb her hair
every morning in front of the mirror, while they discussed whether the braids should be more tight or loose.
That summers were everlasting‌
And the days too.
She assured that there were tadpoles in the puddles;
that there were puddles in the fields and fields in the villages. And even in the cities.
Y hasta en la ciudad.
When mom wore braids,
she had to be bored during the hot summer naps, but she could also play outside until nighttime, while the parents cooled off.