My Abuela's First Plane Ride

My grandmother is eighty-eight and had never been on an airplane until this summer, when we flew her from San Antonio to Seattle to meet her new great-grandson.

She wore her church dress and her best pearls. She brought a rosary, a bag of homemade tamales "for the pilot," and a little notebook to write down everything she saw.

She took the window seat and didn't stop staring out of it for four hours. "The clouds are like a big bed," she said. "Look, mijo, the mountains have snow in July!" When the flight attendant brought pretzels, she thanked her as if she'd received a gift.

And yes, she gave the tamales to the pilot. He came out of the cockpit after we landed to thank her personally, and she made him promise to warm them up properly. He promised.