Sometimes my mind wanders to far places and it always seems to bring me back to my childhood.  Perhaps it was then when I had the most fun, enjoyed the most freedom, and spent the best time of my life.  Our house on Calle Maria de Toledo was a four room, wood-framed house painted in baby blue color.  As I remember it our house was big with plenty of room for us to move about and run through it freely.  Our neighbor to the right was an old lady named Dońa Carlita.  She was always alert, awake, and looking for us to come running through the alley that separated her home from ours.  For as long as I can remember, she was always old and wrinkled with the skin of her bod y draping her long, skinny bones.  She looked scary and we tried not to get close to her for we were very afraid she would grab us, at least I was.   She lived in the house by herself, and although she had children and grand children who occasionally came to spend short times with her, she stayed by herself most of the times.  We were very scared because of her uncanny way of knowing when we got into trouble.  She always knew it and found pleasure in telling our parents. 

Because we were scared of her, we tried not to bother her with our noises as we play outside on the streets.  We would play two to three houses d own in order to avoid disturbing Dońa Carlita. Our parents took our actions as a sign of respect and knew that as long as she kept an eye on us, we would stay out of trouble.  One thing I admired about her was her compassion for others.  Even though she would tell on us when we got in trouble, she would often shield us from my mother’s wrath.  We will run to her whenever Mom’s day didn’t go as planned. Mom would draw her petrified discipline stick from the space above the threshold leading to the kitchen, and impact instant justice to those who dare to stand in the way of “Mom’s law.”  Dońa Carlita would come to our rescue and counsel Mom on proper ways to discipline us.