One night a few weeks ago, my mother set aside the book I had chosen for us to read that night and said, “We can read that another night dear.” Then she surprised me by saying, “I want to tell you about where I was born. I was born in Spain.” I was shocked. I thought she was an American. She continued, “When I was five years old, I came from Spain to the United States. Spain is another country very far from here. You will learn about it in school if you haven’t yet.” She took a deep breath, “I came on a ship with my mother. We could only bring two suitcases with us.”

I was flabbergasted! “Wow, why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.

She sat there, with her black hair and strongly shaped nose, smiling at me, as she often did. Then she started again, “I know the family thinks of itself as Irish but really you are more Spanish than Irish, and I think it’s time you learn that.”