Chapter 4 Beautiful Objects
Chapter 4 Beautiful Objects
"Come, Balam!" my father called.
The morning sun glared at my laziness as I lay on my mat.
I didn't want to get up. It was very hot already, though it was still early.
I knew there was maize to plant, but my back was sore, and my hands were blistered.
My father called again. "Come on, Balam, it's time to get up."
Then he added, "We're not planting today." That made me get up quickly.
"Where are we going?" I asked, but he didn't respon
