At the very end of
the book, Maria Isabel finally sets off on her journey to America to reunite
with Enrique. The final lines of the story show her departure from her family. Though she will not see her loved ones for a long time, "Maria Isabel does not say goodbye to her daughter.
She does not hug her… She does not look back" (Nazario 240). I find these lines particularly striking because they mirror how Enrique's
mother, Lourdes, left him at the beginning of the book. Lourdes could not bring
herself to hug her son as she stepped away, and her only words were to remind
him to go to church that evening.
There is obvious symmetry between the two mothers leaving
their children behind at the beginning and end of the book, even as the middle of the book depicted the damage that a mother's absence could do to a family. Maria Isabel's abandonment of her daughter, despite Enrique's struggle without a mother, leads the reader to believe that she may not return
to her daughter as Lourdes never returned to her son. Though Enrique understands how important it is that he and Maria Isabel
return, I am not sure that his experience will make him any more diligent about returning to Honduras.
Have you ever been
insistent that you would accomplish something but, despite your intentions, end up not
reaching your goal? How did it feel? Did you wish you had done anything differently?
In answer to your questions about not following through with things, my answer is definitely a yes. One such experience was training to compete in the Scripps National Spelling Bee. I had been told many times that I had a gift in spelling, and I had been so inspired by these comments that I swore a solemn vow to myself that I would be a competitor in the National Spelling Bee. My mother ordered spelling books, supplies, a titanic dictionary, and more in order to help prepare me. However, many activities got in the way of studying spelling. I laugh at myself now for thinking that I had a ton of work to in fifth and sixth grade, but at the time, I was trying to do everything else that spelling was pushed to the back of my mind. Sure, I studied words and etymology for a while here and there, but during the actual State and Regional Bees, I had to scrape by with almost sheer instinct. I could not compete in seventh grade because Woodland Middle School did not participate in the local spelling bees. Then came eighth grade. Eighth grade is the last year in which one is able to compete in spelling bees, so the pressure began to overwhelm me. When I got up to the stage for the school spelling bee and went out on the first word, I was inconsolable. I walked out of the theater stunned, not being able to believe what had happened. Only when I exited the theater and entered the gallery did the tears come. Spelling had been my one freakish talent, and I had squandered it. Even now, as a rising sophomore, I am unable to forgive myself for not going to the National Bee. All the spelling books and flashcards sit in the house gathering dust in a place where I am not be able to see them, because they reminded me of my failure. I blame myself for not studying harder, and for not being more serious. I am constantly reminded by the second place trophies in my room, and whenever I look at them I feel the anger and humiliation, as fresh in my mind as when I walked off that stage in eighth grade.
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