by Catalina Herrera
Her mom is from Chile and her father is American. I pick up her every day at school. She speaks to me in a funny and intermediate Spanish. She dazzles me because she is brave. Always, she wants to know everything, even why the stone in the way is there. She plays with her best friend, does what she has in mind, without fear, without thinking of the consequences. She turns her face, looks at me, laughs and keeps playing. Some time ago, almost crying and a little confused, she asked her parents where she belonged. Sometimes her soul and thoughts are older than 4 years. Every night her thin arms cross my neck in a very strong hug. As her aunt, I feel that she is hugging a part of her life so far from here, that she is trying to feel, touch and smell for the time that I will stay here.