done since sophomore year.
Six neighborhood lawns
Six neighborhood lawns.
Flower beds.
Patio planters.
A vegetable garden for Mrs. Camacho two doors down.
When I told Mom what I planned to study, she set her coffee cup on the kitchen counter and looked at me as if I had announced I was majoring in clouds.
“That isn’t a real career, Daniela.”
She said it once to my face.
She said it many more times when I wasn’t there.
I learned that years later from Rosa Camacho, our neighbor and my
