And she gave Pecas a hundred kisses!
But María Mariposa wasn’t about to stop there.
She made Mr. Peterson smile with a beautiful drawing of Mrs. Peterson, whom he missed dearly.
She got Ms. Friedman’s cats to finally stop fighting.
And she made Simon feel better by telling him his favorite joke!
María Mariposa had so much Mexico magic to give that it spilled into the street and onto everyone she saw.
But when the big yellow school bus arrived, María felt a little nervous.
She fluttered her wings to make sure they were still there.
“Buenos días,” she said.
“Good morning,” the friendly driver replied.
And when the big yellow school bus dropped her off at school, María felt very nervous.
“We have a new friend in class,” María’s teacher announced. “Please tell us where you’re from.”
María stood in front of the room. She carefully picked out each of the words she wanted to say.
“Hola. I am Mexico.”
“No, you’re not” came a reply.
And the children laughed.
“Sorry,” María whispered, for she had not chosen the right words after all.
In art class, they drew self-portraits.
María was proud of her colorful wings, but a careless elbow bumped her arm.
In science, María got to feed Button (and tell him all about Mexico).
But when she forgot to close the cage, everyone was very upset.
At lunchtime, nobody shared stories or riddles or giggles with María.
She didn’t feel much like María Mariposa anymore.
And just like that, her wings were gone. Only loneliness stayed behind to keep María company.
And the loneliness was so big.
But the Mexico in María’s heart was bigger.
She didn’t need a butterfly to remind her that she was bougainvillea pink, mango yellow, and the bright green of a parrotlet.
