Mary Peace Finley
Award-winning author of books for young people
© Mary Peace Finley 2012
She loved hearing tales of places far away. Someday she'd go to those places the
trappers and traders talked about and speak the languages they spoke. She would
leave this dusty little town with its little mud houses and ride south to Santa Fe and
Chihuahua and to the grand capital of Mexico with its towers of gold. She'd ride east across
Indian Territory to Bent's Fort, the adobe castle on the plains, to visit Papá, and on to the
United States and sail across a big blue ocean to even bigger stone castles in Spain and....
"Teresita, watch what you're doing!"
"Ay, no!" Mamá's white blouse had floated from her hands into the swift current.
Teresita stepped out, but as the stream tugged at her ankle, she jerked back. Eugenia
was already splashing out into the deeper water.
"Gracias, Eugenia." Teresita cringed, avoiding her sister's eyes.
The church bell rang out from the center of town. She was grateful to escape Eugenia's usual
lecture about being afraid of water. "Ay, Eugenia! Listen to the bell! Everything's new today! The
wagon train is here! Who knows what else will happen?" She grabbed Eugenia's hands and sang,
Who makes the soap?
We do.
Who washes the clothes?
We do.
