Milagros
by Tess Almendárez Lojacono
February, 2011
Buy your copy of Milagros for $14.00.
Heaven Is
Claudio stood in the doorway watching his
daughter, oblivious now to the worn, bunched
carpet, low windows, paint peeling from their
sills, the chipped bureau his wife had rescued
from someone else’s garbage. Mercedes was
kneeling by her bed, intent upon a project.
“Hey.” His voice, a golden thread, drifted into
the room. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t turn. “Drawing,” came the grave
reply.
He moved closer and looked over her shoulder.
A piece of cardboard was balanced on the bed’s
flowered comforter. She was using markers. Her
mother didn’t allow markers upstairs, in the
bedroom, but he wouldn’ t say anything. The
cardboard was divided into three parts.
He perched on the edge of the bed, careful
not to jostle the artist or her work. “What is it?”
Mercedes stopped for a moment, tilted her
head. “I’m studying on heaven – on getting to
heaven.” She resumed drawing.
“You mean, like what you have to do?”
“No.”
“You mean like, a map of how to get there?”
“No.”
They were quiet for a while. Claudio studied
the cardboard. In the first section was a picture
of blue bird eggs, resting in their nest, a baby
bottle like the one Mercedes had clung to for
years, a pink blanket and what looked like a
drawing of a mother holding a little girl; Mercedes and her mom, no doubt. In the middle
section was a picture of a foal, cut from a magazine, a pizza, a purple house, and the photo of
Mercedes’ mother she kept in her backpack to
look at when she was feeling sad at school. The
last section showed a prayer book and a rosary
draped over a golden chalice and a cross, surrounded by a field of orange flowers. Mercedes
finished coloring in a crown, just above the
cross. She sat back on her heels.
“See,” she pointed to the blue eggs. “This is
the beginning. On earth. Next, comes life.
Regular stuff, you know? Stuff you love like
houses and pets and toys – ooh! Toys!” She
grabbed a green marker and began adding a
teddy bear. While she drew she hummed.
Finished, she rocked back up on her knees and
murmured, “And then there’s heaven.” She
added a little more yellow to the crown. “It’s like
a chart.”
“It’s a great chart.” Her father’s eyes filled.
“Daddy, is heaven the same for everyone?”
“I don’t know.”
She blinked, surprised. “Oh.”
“I don’t know if it’s even what we think it is.
You remember what your mother always said,
‘God knows best.’” Mercedes nodded. He gathered
her onto his lap. She was taller than he realized.
Her feet almost touched the floor.
“Put your heaven on the chart, Daddy.”
Claudio leaned over her and lifted the photo
of his wife. He kissed it once and laid it in the
section that was heaven.
| 
