Mango Ice Pops: Two Narrators, Two Summers

Story 1: Ice Pops on the Balcony

1Our apartment was so hot on Tuesday that even the fan seemed tired. My little sister, Pilar, lay on the kitchen floor because the tiles felt cool. I was sure the night would be miserable.

2Then Abuela opened the freezer and pulled out a tray of ice pops she had made that morning from mango, lime and a pinch of chili powder. "Come, Leo," she said, and she led us out to the balcony.

3We sat in a row on the floor of the balcony. My mango pop was sweet, then sour, then a little spicy at the end. Juice dripped down my wrist faster than I could lick it. Below us, the street was full of honking cars and music from open windows.

4Abuela told us she used to make ice pops with her own grandmother. I wanted to ask her more, but my mouth was too full of mango. Soon the sun went down, and the bricks across the street turned orange. Pilar fell asleep against Abuela's arm.

Story 2: Rosa's First Ice Pops

1Long ago, on a hot summer afternoon, a girl named Rosa stood on a stool in her grandmother's kitchen. Her grandmother squeezed limes into a bowl while Rosa stirred in sugar and chopped mango.

2Rosa poured the mix into small cups and set them in the freezer. Every few minutes, she opened the door to check. Her grandmother knew that opening the door let warm air in, but she wanted Rosa to learn patience on her own. So she only smiled and kept washing the bowl.

3When the ice pops were finally frozen, Rosa carried the first one to her grandmother. "You made these," her grandmother said, "so someday you will teach someone else." Rosa did not understand what she meant yet, but she remembered those words for the rest of her life.