Ana's Gift: a Día del Niño Story

This story is called Ana’s Gift: A Día del niño Story, written and read by Lorena Romero. Día del niño, or Child’s Day, is a holiday celebrated worldwide. Mexico celebrates annually on April 30. The celebrations often include making children feel special by gifting them toys, taking them out for ice cream, or planning a fun day for them. In the United States, many libraries celebrate Día de los niños/día de los libros, a cultural initiative recognized by the American Library Association. This initiative, often referred to as “Día”, was founded by author Pat Mora in 1997 to emphasize the importance of literature for children. Libraries plan special events during “Día”, and children are often given free books. This story focuses on Día del niño as it is celebrated in Mexico on April 30. This is a LibraryCall recording “95, 96, 97” counted Ana, carefully jotting down small lines in her journal. “98, 99…” “NINETY-NINE!” she yelled. “Papi, I just need one more! Just one more doll!” “That’s wonderful, mi niña” said Ana’s dad, pulling her in for a big hug. “One, just one! ¡Una mas!” she chanted in her dad’s arms. “You spoil her too much,” said a voice from behind them. Both Ana and her dad turned around and saw Mom standing in the doorway. She did not look happy. “She’s never going to understand the value of anything if you just give her whatever she wants all the time” added Mamá, rolling her eyes. “Déjala,” replied Papa. “Leave it alone, I’m supposed to make my child happy, no?” Ana turned her attention back to her impressive doll collection. “One more doll and I will have one hundred of them!,” she thought. Ana had worked so hard on her doll collection. Well, her dad kind of just showed up with them. Every time he traveled, he would leave for a long time, but he always came back with a doll. This time, her dad had brought her a beautiful doll with a kimono from Japan. Last time he traveled, he brought a blonde little doll wearing a blue dress, bonnet, and tiny wooden clogs from Sweden. They were all so pristine and beautiful, and she needed only one more to reach her goal. When Ana’s dad came home from his travels, she always asked where he had gone and why he was gone for so long. He would always say, “I work hard so that you can have whatever you want.” Then he would pull out a beautiful box with a fancy doll, and she would forget about everything else. Ana grabbed two dolls and skipped over to her parents, who were still bickering about Dad always traveling or whatever. “¡Papi! ¡Mami! Do you want to play with dolls together?” “I’m so tired. I was on an airplane all day. Maybe next time,” yawned Papá. “Buenas noches,” he said with a kiss on her forehead. He walked away towards his room and closed the door. Ana lowered her head, sad that every time she asked, her dad was too tired to play. Mamá sighed and pulled Ana in for a hug. “Esta bien hija, I’ll play with you.” The next day, Ana woke up to her almost full wall of dolls. Every morning, she woke up and said good morning to each one of them. She walked downstairs to the kitchen, where Mamá and Papá were having breakfast. Mamá had made huevos rancheros, her favorite! “Buenos días,” smiled Mama. “Did you sleep ok?” “¡Sí!” replied Ana, setting her full plate down next to her dad. “I sleep so well when you are home, papá.” Ana’s dad smiled and kissed her head, then turned his attention back to his newspaper. “I’m so excited for today! Where are we going to go get ice cream?” Asked Ana with a mouthful of food. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to go do something for work today…” he replied, his face hidden by the newspaper. “But you said we would spend the day together,” Ana whimpered. “You leave on another trip in 2 days!” “I know, mi amor, but my company is having a Día del niño toy drive tomorrow. This year we are gathering toy donations to give to kids that need them. I have to go shopping.” Ana dropped her fork and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “I’m a child too! What about me, do I get a toy?” Papá sighed and set the newspaper down. “Okay, why don’t we go all together?” Ana’s frown disappeared immediately. “Yay! Maybe I can get my one-hundredth doll today!,” she exclaimed, hopping out of her chair in excitement. “Absolutely not,” Mamá said from across the table. “¿Por qué no?” asked Papá with an irritated look on his face. “Just get her the doll, it will make her happy for the rest of the day.” “You just got her a doll yesterday. We can’t keep giving her one toy every day," Mamá snapped. “Ana, finish your breakfast and get ready, please.” The whole car ride to the store, Ana’s parents argued about the doll, then about how papá is never home. This wasn’t anything new. It felt like they argued every time Papá was home, but then when he wasn’t Mamá missed him and cried in her room. Adults were so complicated. Ana and her parents pulled up to the toy store, and she couldn’t wait to pick out her last doll. It would be perfect that her hundredth doll was one that she picked out herself. She ran into the store and straight to the doll aisle. She inspected each doll to make sure the 100th one would fit perfectly in her collection. Then, she saw the perfect doll. It was a special edition México one. She had her hair in braids, and was wearing a stunning red and green folklórico dress. Her name was “Fernanda,” and she was perfect. Ana saw her parents at the checkout line and ran over to show them her newest addition to the collection. “¡Papá! ¡Mamá! I found her!” Ana exclaimed, holding the doll up to her parents. Papá smiled, but it only lasted a second before Mamá started bickering with him again about buying her another toy. Ana took this opportunity to just run around the cashier and asked him to scan the doll into their bill. Her parents didn’t even notice! ‘I’ll wait for you guys by the door!” She yelled at her parents, but they were too busy arguing. She couldn’t wait to get home, so she pulled Fernanda out of her box right then and there. As she stared at the final piece of her collection, she felt a pair of eyes staring at her through the glass. There was a girl on the other side looking at her doll. Ana jumped a little and pulled her doll closer to her. The girl walked through the door slowly. “Qué bonita,” the little girl said. “Your doll is so pretty, can I see her?” “No, she’s mine!” Ana said, hiding Fernanda behind her back. “You can see mine if you want.” The little girl pulled out a small doll from her pocket. It was a muñeca Maria, a Mexican rag doll. It was dirty and one of the eyes was coming off. “That’s just a Maria, they’re everywhere,” snapped Ana. “My doll is special. It’s like a better version of a Maria. They sell them inside if you want one.” “I don’t have enough money to buy anything here, I just like looking at the toys from the glass” the girl replied. “But it’s ok, my doll is really special. Mi papá made it for me.” Ana was so confused. Dads… made dolls? “¡Xóchitl, ven para acá!” Yelled a man’s voice from outside the store. “I have to go, my dad is calling me. Bye!” The girl ran back out towards a family sitting on a blanket on the curb. There was a man, and a woman holding a baby. In the blanket there were a bunch of muñeca Marias for sale laid out in front of them. Ana stood dumbfounded, watching the dad and daughter play across the parking lot. The man placed the daughter on his shoulders and ran around making funny noises. The woman laughed and watched them play. Papá never did anything like that with Ana, now that she thought about it. Ana’s parents were finally done paying and exited the store. Even though they had left with an overwhelming amount of toys, the other family didn’t look over even once. They were having such a fun time playing together, and Ana was the one that couldn’t stop staring at them. When they got home, Ana and her parents placed Fernanda up on the wall. “Finally, 100 dolls,” said Papá, putting his hands on Ana’s shoulders. “How do you feel?” “I don’t know,” Ana replied. “Today, when I was waiting for you, I saw a girl. She said her family didn’t have money, but she had a Maria that her dad made. I just don’t get it. How could she be so happy when she couldn’t even shop at the toy store?” Papá seemed confused by Ana’s response, but Mama looked thoughtful. “Money isn’t the only thing that can make you happy,” replied Mamá. “Some people are rich in love. It is the best type of rich you can be.” That night, Ana kept shuffling in her bed. She thought she would feel different once her doll collection was complete. Why didn’t having all these beautiful dolls give her the same big smile as the little girl with the Maria doll? She barely had anything! Then all of a sudden, it clicked. Maybe the dolls weren’t what made her happy after all. Maybe it was the person that gave them to her that made the dolls so special. The next morning, Papá woke up, but Mamá wasn’t in the bed. He put on his robe and chanclas and left his room. He heard a bunch of shuffling coming from Ana’s room, so he made his way up the stairs. When he got to her doorway, he was shocked at what he saw. Ana and Mamá had carefully packed away Ana’s entire doll collection in boxes. The wall that had been full of dolls was now covered with dozens of empty shelves. “¿Qué pasa? Are we moving?” he asked. “¡Papá!” yelled Ana, running into her father’s arms. He picked her up and turned to look at Mamá, who gave him a curious look. “No, we’re not moving,” replied Mamá. “Ana says this is all for the toy drive today.” Ana looked at her dad with a big smile and said, “that’s right, Papi! Let me come to the Día del niño event with you!” Ana and her parents loaded up all the dolls in the car and off they went. For once, there was no bickering. No discussion about who was giving Ana what, or if she had too much of it. Her parents simply held hands in the front seat and even sang along with the radio music. When they arrived at Papá’s work, she saw families waiting outside the building. The adults and children all had big smiles, and laughter filled the line of people waiting to go inside and grab a toy. Ana realized she had never felt so excited herself! She was even happier than when Papá came home with new dolls. Maybe this was her new favorite feeling. Papá’s employees helped unload the boxes from the car into a large room, where the families were going to come and pick a toy from the towers of donations. Ana was so jittery with excitement that she could hardly contain it. When the doors opened, Ana jumped up and down and said “¡Hola, amigos! ¡Felíz Día del niño!” One by one, families came in and wished Ana a happy Children’s Day. She was happy to show her dolls and let people know what the doll’s name was and where it was from. She encouraged anyone who wanted a doll to take one, and she did the same thing for the new toys they had bought the day before. She made sure that each kid that came by left with a toy. One by one, the dolls left with a new owner, until just her newest doll, Fernanda, was left. As the event was coming to an end, Ana saw a familiar face. The same girl from the toy store was staring at her from far away, holding her muñeca Maria in her hands. Ana grabbed the Fernanda doll and ran over to the girl and her family. “¡Hola Xohcitl!” she exclaimed at the girl. “You remember my name?” the girl replied. “Of course I do.” Ana looked at Fernanda the doll, then looked back at Xochitl. “I’m sorry I was rude to you yesterday. At first, I thought you were jealous of my doll, so I didn’t let you see her. But then I went home and realized, you have something I really want.” Xochitl looked confused. “Here,” said Ana, handing Fernanda the doll to Xochitl. “She’s yours. She will never be as special as your Maria, but I hope you like her.” Xotchitl was shocked. “Are you sure? You just got her.” “I’m sure. ¡Felíz día del niño!” Ana exclaimed, giving Xochitl a big hug. Ana started walking away back towards her parents. “Espera!” exclaimed Xochitl. She dug into her dad’s satchel and pulled out a muñeca Maria. “Felíz día del niño to you too,” said Xochitl, giving Ana a big hug. Xochitln ran towards her family and off they went. Ana and her parents helped clean up after the whole event. They all let out a big sigh once everything was tidy. “I’m very proud of you, hija,” said Mamá, giving Ana a big hug. “I’m proud of you too,” said Papá. “But what am I going to bring you back from my trips now?” “I don’t need any more dolls,” replied Ana. “I want to play with you. I want us to have rides in the car and I want you to spin me in the air. No more arguing over toys. I don’t want those. I would much rather have you home.” Papá looked at Mamá in shock. “I would rather have you home, too,” Mamá said with watery eyes. Papá held both of their hands. “I understand. I’m sorry I haven’t been here a lot lately. I work hard to give you the best life I can, but I get so caught up in doing that I end up not spending that time with you. I will make sure to make time for us from now on.” The family hugged and left to go get ice cream together. Ana was the happiest she had ever felt, holding both of her parents’ hands, and her new favorite doll sticking out of her pocket. The end.