″‘My great-grandmother, Bisabuela Beatriz...’
That was when I began to think of her as my Bisa Bea. And I wanted her picture.
‘Hey, Mama, can I keep the picture? It’s so pretty. She’s like a doll. Can I keep it?‘”
“I thought of stuffing the picture into my pants pocket, but it wouldn’t fit. Only when I got to know Bisa Bea better did I learn the truth. She doesn’t like girls in pants or shorts, not even nice ones. She thinks they’re boys’ clothes. Sometimes she has the strangest ideas.”
“Just then Sergio walked up. He is the nicest boy in the class- the most fun, with the best ideas. I love talking to him. Sometimes I think the two of us should get married when we grow up. I would like to spend the rest of my life looking at him, listening to him tell me things, doing things together. And I wanted him to meet Bisa Bea.”
″‘Bisa Bea, do you want to come out and play with us?’
She didn’t exactly give me an answer, but I knew she was dying to go out and play. First, silence means consent. Then I only had to look into her eyes to see how brightly they shone when I mentioned the idea.”
″‘I love these old photographs. I collect them. This one is especially nice. Who is it?’ she asked.
‘My great-grandmother.’
‘Of course. I should have guessed. You look so much alike. Anyone looking carefully would realize it. Your face is the same shape, you’ve got the same pointy chin- you’re a perfect copy.‘”