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She Was 79.

Writer: Bessy Vega
Bessy Vega
Aug 30
1 min read

For many years, kids in El Salvador were sent to

bed at 8 pm with the Telerin Family.


It was a short cartoon of a line of little kids 

singing “Let’s Go to Bed.”

Led by Cleo.

A dark-haired boy in blue pajamas.


It was a moment that my great-grandma 

lived for every day.


I was very little, 

but I could see the little girl inside her.

Singing their song.


One Christmas years later,

we were opening presents.


My mom, as always, was Santa.


My great-grandma’s gifts were usually

major appliances, kitchen gadgets, or dishes.


But her gift this year was totally different.


She opened it and began to cry uncontrollably.


She hugged my mom.


She hugged the box.


She looked at the front of the box.


Hugged it.


Cried.


When she finally put it down beside her,


One hand remained on it.


So it couldn’t be taken.


I understood the tears.


It was a Cleo doll.


In his bright blue pajamas.


It was my great-grandma’s first toy.


She was 79.


 
 
 

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