Past and Present Collide (en Espanol)

In May of 1996 while attending Simpson College, I went on a Mayterm trip to Spain. It was the first (and only time since) that I have been overseas, and it was a great time. Ten college-age girls and one short male Puerto Rican professor of Spanish...we most certainly gave Rueben a run for his money. For three weeks we toured around Spain - Barcelona, Madrid, Toledo, Seville, Granada, Costa del Sol...and a day trip to Morocco. An unbelievable experience for which I am incredibly grateful.

One of the days spent in Madrid, we happened upon a little drugstore type establishment with a variety of miscellaneous goods (for those of you who grew up in Storm Lake, IA - think of a slightly larger Ressler's Drug. Remember Ressler's?) At this establishment, I happened to buy a book of fairytales, in Spanish of course. It is a book that has been through many moves and today, resides on a bookshelf in our house, though until recently I hadn't opened it for years.

Lately Lucy has been expressing wonderment at words in different languages. A couple of weeks ago I started throwing some words around in Spanish, and she thought I was about the coolest person on Earth. I remembered this book, and offered to read her a bedroom story all in Spanish. Although my Spanish is rusty, I knew I could at least get the gist of the story since I knew the plot, no matter the language. So we grabbed it off the shelf and snuggled up in Lucy's bed for storytime.

I read in Spanish, and stopped every so often to explain in English. After giving me her undivided, completely enraptured attention through Caperucita Roja (Little Red Riding Hood) and Los Tres Cerditos (Three Little Pigs), midway through Cenicienta (Cinderella) she finally stopped me and in a very quiet voice said, "Mama...I don't understand what you're saying." "Do you want me to stop?" I asked. "NO," she assured, and listened to the rest of the story with wide, amazed eyes.

I put the book away after she fell asleep, but the next morning she pulled it out again. She carried it into my bedroom and climbed up on the bed to read. While I was getting ready in the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, laying tummy-down on the bed with the book open before her, tracing words left to right with her finger, and saying, "uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco..." Because those are the only Spanish words she knows...for now, at least!

I'm pretty sure the 19-year-old me did not fathom when I bought that book, that it would be in the hands of a child of mine one day. That friends, is a near perfect collision of past and present.