Xoxi Munoz

1/12/15
Colum #1
A sharp, annoying sound of a bell echos through the suburban walls of our starter home.
It's the doorbell.
No one is being expected.
Answer the door!, Nana screams at me while I find a stopping point in The Office. Jim and
Pam had finally gotten married and I was stirred by their constant love and care for each other.
I raced down the stairs as I had many times. Always hoping it was the glorious girl scout cookies
with their packages of heaven. Always praying it wouldnt be Jehovah Witness.
I wasnt fast enough.
By the time I reached the end of the stairs she had lost all of her slim hispanic patience and
answered the door.
A figure appeared.
A figure I did not recognize.
His words uttered the confusing and strange words ever.
You have been served, he said.
Confusion overwhelmed me.
I definitely did not order a pizza. I didnt order China Wok, Wingstop, Jimmy Johns, or even
Jasons Deli.
I ran up to my grandmother.
My innocent eyes looked up at her with excitement.
Then looked forward at the figure whose name I still dont know. He didnt have any sort of
food. He didn't have a greasy, deliciously smelling box.
The figure handed my Nana letter.
He asked for my father. My father had been working late for the past year due to the workload
increasing at Dallas ISD.
He wasnt here. He is out at the moment, my Nana said with pure eloquence and grace.
Well then, this is for him then., said the figure, Goodnight.
As he walked away all I desired was to see what was in the envelope.
I had been able to read on a college level for years. At the age of 11, I was ready for any kind of
letter. I asked Nana if we could read the letter. She gave me the okay.
It read it was from State of Texas.
My slender fingers tore it open like Christmas; knowing my Dad had probably received an
award.
It read civil compliant Nieves Padilla.
Thanks, Mom.