Rogelia's House of Magic Read Online Free PDF Page B

what butterfly medicine represents?”
    Xochitl shook her head. She didn’t really care for any of Nana’s teachings anymore. What good was it to be a
curandera
and have magical powers if you couldn’t stop bad things from happening, like a family member dying right in front of you? Nana placed the butterfly in Xochitl’s hand. “In the teachings of our people, butterflies represent transformation. When I was younger than you, my grandmother took me out to the fields to watch the chrysalis transform into this beautiful winged creature. This animal totem will help you make the transition from sadness to happiness.”
    “Can’t you just whip up some remedy to bring Graciela back?” Xochitl begged. She folded her long legs beneath her.
    “You know I can’t do that,” Nana said gently. “I work with nature, not against it.”
    Nana picked up a wide, flat-handled boar’s-hair brush and tenderly pulled it through Xochitl’s waist-length hair. Xochitl’s shoulders tensed and her fingers flinched, nearly crushing the butterfly. This nightly ritual was something she used to do with Graciela. They had taken turns brushing long strokes through each other’s hair. She didn’t want Nana to do it now, but she couldn’t seem to stop her.
    Xochitl looked over at the bedside table, where dried lupine flowers from the accident scene lay next to a picture of her and Graciela standing in the river that ran behind their town.
    “What about making a special concoction to make Graciela’s spirit visit?” Xochitl asked.
    “We can only invite spirits to come. There is no magic that can pluck Graciela from wherever she is and make her do our will,” Nana said as she swept the brush through Xochitl’s hair again.
    “I tried to speak with Graciela at the Santa Ana River earlier today, but nothing happened,” Xochitl admitted.
    “Graciela will come to you when the time is right,” Nana said wisely.
    “When?” Xochitl croaked over the lump in her throat. The tears had swelled in her eyes.
    “¿Quien sabe?”
Nana answered. “Who knows?”
    Xochitl’s shoulders slouched in defeat while Nana kept brushing. Xochitl closed her eyes and remembered how Graciela had plaited her hair into two long braids before they got into the truck that would take them to their father and America, the Land of the Free.
    “I know it is hard, but you can’t stay sad forever. Graciela wouldn’t want that. You must be strong for her,” Nana persisted.
    “I can’t,” Xochitl mumbled.
    “Yes, you can. It’s in your blood. When the Spanish conquered the Aztec people—your people, our people—the Aztecs kept their faith. Through the Spanish Virgin Mary and Aztec Tonanztin, a prophecy was given that the power of the people would return. From the combination of these two Great Mothers, La Virgen de Guadalupe brought hope when she first appeared with the miraculous fragrant red Castilian roses at her feet.”
    Nana patted Xochitl so hard on the back of the shoulder that Xochitl lurched forward. “
‘Xochitlcheztal’
means ‘where the flowers bloom’ in the Aztec language. Your name is special and has deep meaning.”
    “I know, I know.” Xochitl dismissed her nana with an impatient wave of her hand.
    “Don’t ever forget the long line of wise women you come from, Xochitl. We passed the lessons of
curanderismo
for generations. I learned from my grandmother. My grandmother was taught by her grandmother, who was taught by her grandmother, and so on, all the way to the ancient Aztec healers.” Nana smiled widely, revealing a missing tooth toward the back of her mouth.
    “You’re always telling me stories like that,” Xochitl countered.
    “And I’ll tell you as many times as I like until my teeth fall out,” Nana retorted.
    “They already are,” Xochitl pointed out. “You’d better be careful before you only have gums to chew with.”
    Nana turned Xochitl so that they faced each other. Nana searched Xochitl’s face and held her