Wisdom Around Us

I’ve always felt I lived on the hyphen of both the Cuban and U.S. cultures having moved to the States with my parents as a young child and raised in the Midwest all my life, but also with the deep Miami Cuban roots that most of us Cuban-Americans share. When the opportunity presented itself. . .

What inspires us to write, to compose, to sculpt, to design? I’d love to believe in the fantastical possibility that creative fairies visit us in the middle of a good night’s sleep and leave us with sparks of creativity that can eventually become one of our works of art.

As we come to the close of a most difficult year for the world, 2020 has again highlighted the need for loving care of each other past our differences, whether they be rooted in culture, religion, politics, social standing, or race.

It is difficult to determine if my youngest grandson is lighting up the room through every pore of his body, from his feet through the tips of his hair, or if he is reflecting the sunshine streaming in through a corner of the room.

My grandmother, Mima Otra, lived just shy of her 109th birthday, and in August I celebrate her last days with us by sharing with my readers a short story I wrote many years ago. There is nothing more delicious than my grandmother’s white rice.

Mi abuela, Mima Otra, vivió hasta casi 109 años de edad, y en este mes de agosto celebro sus últimos días con nosotros compartiendo con mis lectores un cuento que escribí hace muchos años. No hay nada más rico que el arroz blanco de mi abuela.