The hot Mexican sun shinned brilliantly down on my tender face.  I asked my mom when we would be leaving for our daily stroll down the Mexican Riviera.  She said for me to put on my flip flops and go down to my grandparent’s room to wait with my little brother.  I was so excited to venture the beach along the half mile walk to the restaurant by the ocean.  I was 8 years old and full of adventure and imagination.  I loved our strolls on the beach outside of Casa De la Serena because there were always new discoveries, whether an animal or a local artist the land was vibrant with life and story.

I still remember the serine path of sand we would walk down to get to the beach.  The way the blazing earth felt sliding gently between my toes as I sunk into the hot sand.  My little brother was four years old and full of wonder like I. We would play a game where we would run toward the water and quickly turn and run from it as if the waves would grab us if we touched the water and pull us into its sporadic embrace.

Along the way we would collect sea shells of pearly white and pastel pink and black and brown with spots and swirls, and hand them to mom.  I knew she loved sea shells and the hundreds we would collect over the next two weeks would bring her so much joy.  The sea creatures were always abundant on our walks.  There were little black crabs, delicate sea stars and on occasion we would come upon a sea urchin or cucumber trapped in the pools of water trapped around the rocks.

I adored the memories we would make as a family on the beach and purposely remembered the smells and the colors and the way I was feeling within every moment to share one day with my own family.

My father was in his element and I enjoyed watching him relish the time he was having with his family.  We were almost to the restaurant and I noticed a mother and her little girl about my age.  They were selling Mexican jewelry out of a hand cart.  I said hola politely while taking in their every detail.  The mother was wearing a traditional Mexican dress with colorful ruffles that cascaded down the front.  Her flip flops were dirty and the foam was torn on one side.  Her hair was wrapped up in a soft bun that was adorned with Mexican beaded barrettes.  Her eyes were a golden brown like her skin only softer in texture.  She was missing teeth and still had the brightest smile and friendliest grin I had ever seen.  The little girl, I presumed was her daughter, she had long dark brown hair similar to mine in color and shine.  Her eyes were a deep brown with swirls of black that reminded me of the many sea shells I had collect just minutes before.

Anticipating what treasure I would discover on the rickety little jewelry cart.  My eyes danced back and forth the beautiful selection of gems galore.  I started touching each necklace with my little agile fingers and found the necklace of my 8 year old dreams.  It was a tine turtle made of shells that were from the beach under our feet.  It was on a piece of leather and I knew its natural simplistic beauty was what I wanted for my treasure of the day.  I reached down into my shallow pocket and pulled out a handful of pesos.  I asked the little girl how much it was and she smiled at me with her mother’s same friendly grin and said “dos pesos.” I gently handed her three pesos and she smiled at me once again saying “gracias Nina.”  I smiled back at her and said “de nada.”

Forever that day will be part of my memories that I treasure and will continue to share with my own family and in turn they will share with their family and so on.  I am now 16 years old and I still have the little turtle shell necklace and the little girl’s sweet voice echoes through my mind when I wear it to this day.