Read Salsa Stories for Free Online Page A

candy, peanuts, and sugarcane pieces came pouring down from the piñata ’s swaying shards. My piñata had more treats in it than any we had ever seen! Amid the laughter and shouting, all the children scrambled on the ground to pick up what they could. When I got up with my hands full, I saw Mami watching me tenderly.
    Â 
    The afternoon wore away, and one by one, my friends left. All except Pablo. Mama Rosa had invited him and his parents to join us for dinner. My uncles, aunt, and Pablo’s parents chattered as they ate.
    â€œFeliz cumpleaños, Roberto,” Mami said as she handed me a plate with two freshly fried chiles rellenos , warm flour tortillas , frijoles , and pico de gallo .
    â€œVictoria,” Mama Rosa said. “Are you going back to work on Monday?”
    â€œ Sí, Mamá,” Mami answered. “I have to.”
    â€œDon’t you think you might get stopped again?” Mama Rosa asked anxiously.
    As Pablo and I sank our teeth into the warm chiles oozing with melted cheese, Mami came to me and kissed me on the forehead. “How did you like your birthday?” she asked.
    â€œIt was the best birthday I ever had!” I answered.
    Mama Rosa and Mami looked at each other, their eyes smiling with silent understanding.
    â€œAnd that,” Mami said, “is your answer.”

Many years ago on a misty October afternoon in Lima, Peru, I watched Mamá bake turrón de Doña Pepa . Even though she made it every year before the procession for the Lord of Miracles, I had never asked her why.
    â€œWhy do you bake turrón in October?” I asked. “Why is this the only time they sell it all over the city?”
    â€œÂ¿Por qué, por qué?” she sighed as she sprinkled the freshly-baked nougat with tiny colorful candies. “Always asking questions, Josefa. Why? It is because this is the month of the Lord of Miracles.”
    Not satisfied with her answer, I continued to ask more questions. Who was Doña Pepa? And why do so many people dress in purple around this time? Finally, I wore Mamá out and she said, “I really should tell you the beautiful story that goes with the nougat. After all, you are named after its creator, Josefina Marmanillo.” Then, handing me a piece of the honey-glazed sweet, she led me to the balcony where we sat next to eachother. And as we watched the breathtaking procession down below, this is the story she told.

    Â 
    It all began in colonial times, when Lima was home to the Quechua Indians. It was also home to the Spanish colonists and to the morenos , who were brought from Africa as slaves. It was then that an old building with a thatched roof stood inside the city’s stone walls. Some say it was a leprosarium. Others say it was a brotherhood of Indians and morenos . Yet there are those who believe that it was a barracks for African slaves. What is true, however, is that on a big adobe wall of this building, an Angolan slave had painted an unusually beautiful black image of Christ.
    A few years later, in 1655, a powerful earthquake shook Lima. It demolished everything — from government palaces, mansions, and monasteries to the humblest of homes. Thousands of lives were lost to the mighty tremors. But in the wake of its destruction, survivors gathered on top of the rubble of the old building to witness a phenomenal sight. The fragile adobe wall where the moreno Christ had been painted stood perfectly intact!
    Word of the event spread among the slaves, and the haunting image of the black Christ became a source ofmiracles for many. Some of the faithful are said to have been healed of incurable diseases. Others vowed to have been granted long-awaited favors. So in time, the painting became known as el Señor de los Milagros . By the 1700s, a church was built to house the image, and the purple-clad nuns from the convent next door became the caretakers of the shrine.
    It was around this time that