Creative Nonfiction: How butterflies grow

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How butterflies grow

Of course we had noticed the changes my older sister had undergone: her body was changing, her face was changing, and she was much older than all the girls on the block. In fact, Mom had once called her into the room and the two of them had talked for a long time. Although I was playing with my other younger sisters, I kept an eye out and when she came out I went to where she was and asked her:
What did she say to you, Mom, what did they talk about? -I whispered to her so our other sisters wouldn't hear.

It's grown-up stuff that you can't hear," she said and went off to play with the dolls.

But tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone," I insisted curiously.

You wouldn't understand. Mom says that soon I won't be a little girl anymore and that I won't be able to play with dolls anymore because I'll be a young lady. That I'm going to transform like butterflies," I looked at her strangely without understanding anything.

Are you going to grow wings? -I asked worriedly, wrinkling my face.

Of course not! -I think I'll be prettier and more delicate, I think that's what mom said," she said without looking at me and with her wrists in her hands.

Oh, but I also want to become a butterfly, please," I said urgently.
Mom says me first and then all the others," said my sister with an air of superiority that she still retains today.

Oh, ok," I agreed and continued playing as children play: without knowing about the world.

Weeks later, on December 24, we were all immersed in a tidal wave of joy, music and celebration. It was Christmas and the house was transformed into an eternal celebration that could last for days. I remember that the table was decorated and as was customary, all the children were wearing new clothes. The adults were laughing with wine glasses in their hands and we children were playing waiting for the baby Jesus.
Xiomara, Ana Karina, my older sister and I were playing ball in the square, while our little friends were lighting fireworks that shot colors into the sky. Suddenly, my sister said she was going home and to wait for her, but minutes passed and she never arrived. Even though we continued playing, I kept an eye out for her because it was strange that she had not returned.

When I got home, my sister was sitting with the adults. Sweaty from running, I went up to her ear and asked her why she hadn't come back to the square.

I've already become a miss," my sister said in a serious tone as if she was giving me bad news. I immediately thought about the butterfly and was about to tell her that I didn't see wings on it, but my sister immediately added:

Mommy says I can't be jumping around, I have to sit still. I think I'm going to have to give away all my dolls," she said pitifully.

That news really delighted me: I would have more toys for myself. So I went to play, and when they asked about my big sister, I said in a confidential tone:

Don't tell anyone, but Egglys is already a young lady. She became a butterfly - I repeated without being able to explain what I was saying.

That December 24, while all the girls were jumping and playing, from one side to the other, my sister danced with my dad and my uncles, she also had to sit in one of the corners of the house while she drank juice in a glass cup and my aunts drank wine in crystal glasses. That image seemed imposing to me because, at that time, we children could not be where the adults were; but it also seemed sad to me because my sister would never again play with her dolls or with us. And inside me I thought that I didn't want to be a butterfly anymore, that I wanted to be a child for life, that I didn't want to give away my dolls, or drink juice in glass cups. That Christmas, without knowing it, was my last Christmas as a girl, because for the next year, it was my turn to become a butterfly.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Until next time, friends