A girl stared at the stars sprinkling the hammock of sky. Like many other nights she listened to the
whisperings of the ancient Aztecs in the wind. She heard their xochicuicatl , their flower-song. She listened as the elders repeated tales their grandfathers had told. Tales their grandfathers’ grandfathers had told: how sacred streams and mountains protect them, how the Nahua lost their land to Cortés, the conqueror, and to the Spaniards who followed him.
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