Esperanza Rising 
This is an excerpt from Esperanza Rising, a novel written by Pam Muñoz Ryan and published in 2000  
 
The rosaries, masses, and funeral lasted three days. People whom Esperanza had 
never seen before came to the ranch to pay their respects. They brought enough 
food to feed ten families every day, and so many flowers that the overwhelming 
fragrance gave them all headaches . . . 
 
The house was full of visitors and their polite murmurings during the day. Mama 
was cordial and attentive to everyone, as if entertaining them gave her a 
purpose. At night, though, the house emptied. The rooms seemed too big without 
Papa’s voice to fill them, and the echoes of their footsteps deepened their 
sadness. Abuelita sat by Mama’s bed every night and stroked her head until she 
slept; then she would come around to the other side and do the same for 
Esperanza. But soon after, Esperanza often woke to Mama’s soft crying. Or Mama 
woke to hers. And then they held each other, without letting go, until morning. 
(26-27) 
… 
 
“Ramona,” said the lawyer. “Your husband, Sixto Ortega, left this house and all of 
its contents to you and your daughter. You will also receive the yearly income 
from the grapes. As you know, it is not customary to leave land to women and 
since Luis was the banker on the loan, Sixto left the land to him .” 
 
“Which makes things rather awkward,” said Tio Luis. “I am the bank president and 
would like to live accordingly. Now that I own this beautiful land, I would like to 
purchase the house from you for this amount.” He handed Mama a piece of 
paper. 
 
Mama looked at it and said, “This is our home. My husband meant for us to live 
here. And the house . . . it is worth twenty times this much! So no, I will not sell. 
Besides, where would we live?” 
 
“I predicted you would say no, Ramona,” said Tio Luis. “And I have a solution to 
your living arrangements. A proposal actually. One of marriage. … Of course, we 
would wait the appropriate amount of time out of respect for my brother. One 
year is customary, is it not?” 
 
Esperanza could not believe what she heard. Mama marry Tio Luis? Marry a 
goat? She looked wide-eyed at him, then at Mama. 
 
Mama’s face looked as if it were in terrible pain. She stood up and spoke slowly 
and deliberately. “I have no desire to marry you, Luis, now or ever. Frankly, your 
offer offends me.” 
 
Tio Luis’s face hardened like a rock and the muscles twitched in his narrow neck. 
 
“You will regret your decision, Ramona. You must keep in mind that this house 
and those grapes are on my property. I can make things difficult for you. Very 
difficult.” (30-32) 
. . . 
 
Her eyes opened, then closed again. She realized she was dreaming and for an 
instant, she felt relieved. But the shaking began again, harder this time. 
 
Someone was calling her. 
 
“Esperanza!” 
 
She opened her eyes. 
 
“Esperanza! Wake up!” screamed Mama. “The house is on fire!” . . . 
 
Esperanza held the towel over her face and looked down the stairs. Curtains 
flamed up the walls. The house was enveloped in a fog that thickened toward the 
ceiling. Mama and Esperanza crouched down the stairs where Alfonso was 
waiting to lead them out through the kitchen. … 
 
The wind caught the sparks from the house and carried them to the stables. 
Esperanza stood in the middle of it all, watching the outline of her home 
silhouetted in flames against the night sky. Someone wrapped a blanket around 
her. Was she cold? She did not know. (39-41) 
 
. . . 
 
They reached the border at Mexicali in the morning. Finally, the train stopped 
moving and everyone disembarked. The land was dry and the panorama was 
barren except for date palms, cactus, and an occasional squirrel or roadrunner. 
The conductors herded everyone into a building where they stood in long lines 
waiting to pass through immigration. Esperanza noticed that the people in the 
first cars were escorted to the shortest lines and passed through quickly. 
 
Inside, the air was stagnant and thick with the smell of body odor. Esperanza and 
Mama, their faces shiny with grime and perspiration, looked tired and wilted and 
they slumped with even the slight weight of their valises. The closer Esperanza 
got to the front, the more nervous she became. She looked at her papers and 
hoped they were in order. What if the officials found something wrong? Would 
they send her back to her uncles? Would they arrest her and put her in jail? 
 
She reached the desk and handed over the documents. 
 
The immigration official seemed angry for no reason. “Where are you coming 
from?” 
 
She looked at Mama who was behind her. 
 
“We are from Aguascalientes,” said Mama, stepping forward. 
 
“And what is your purpose for entering the United States?” 
 
Esperanza was afraid to speak. What if she said the wrong thing? 
 
“To work,” said Mama, handing him her documents as well. 
 
“What work?” demanded the man. 
 
Mama’s demeanor changed. She stood up straight and tall and deliberately 
blotted her face with a handkerchief. She looked directly into the official’s eyes 
and spoke calmly as if she were giving simple directions to a servant. “I am sure 
you can see that everything is in order. The name of the employer is written there. 
People are expecting us.” 
 
The man studied Mama. He looked at their faces, then the pages, then their faces 
again. 
 
Standing tall and proud, Mama never took her eyes from his face. 
 
Why was it taking so long? 
 
Finally, he grabbed the stamp and pounded each page with the words “Mexican 
National.” He shoved their papers at them and waved them through. Mama took 
Esperanza’s hand and hurried her toward another train. 
 
They boarded and waited an hour for all the passengers to get through 
immigration. Esperanza looked out the window. Across the tracks, several groups 
of people were being prodded onto another train headed back toward Mexico. 
 
“My heart aches for those people. They came all this way just to be sent back,” 
said Mama. 
 
“But why?” asked Esperanza. 
 
“Many reasons. They had no papers, false ones, or no proof of work. Or there 
might have been a problem with just one member of the family so they all chose 
to go back instead of being separated.” 
 
Esperanza thought about being separated from Mama and gratefully took her 
hand and squeezed it. (81-84)