e·pis·to·lar·y

/əˈpistəˌlerē/

adjective

1. (of a literary work) in the form of letters.

{Child, 8, on summer vacation in Puerto Rico}

Dear 1Papi,

How are you?  I saw 2Mami writing you a letter and I decided I wanted to write one too.  I’m writing for all of us.  Me and Nani and Patri miss you.  We love it here.  We go to grandpa’s every day and see all the animals.  Sometimes we go early in the morning and see him milking the cows.  We saw him kill a goat and a pig when 3Titi Julia had a baby.  She had a girl and grandpa killed the goat and the pig for the party we had for the baby.  The pig made a loud squealy noise.  Grandma told us not to say 4bendito or the pig wouldn’t die.  We still said it and the pig died anyway. 

We love you.  Cuca, Nani, and Patri

1Dad.

2Mom.

3Aunt.

4Literally means blessed, but many Hispanics use it to mean “so sorry”, or “awww.”

***************************************************************************************************************************************

{Child, 11, on summer vacation in Puerto Rico}

Dear Papi,

I’m writing to tell you I’m sorry 1Tio Pio died.  Mami said you couldn’t come because you didn’t have any money and you had to work to get money for us to come back home after the summer.  I want to tell you what happened because you couldn’t come.  Tio Pio fell down in the front yard and grandma started screaming.  Grandpa told her to stop screaming and call the ambulance and he went out to the yard and helped Tio.  The ambulance came and took Tio away.  Grandpa got in the ambulance with him.  The ambulance here doesn’t look like the ambulance in Brooklyn.  It’s smaller.  Tio Pio had something wrong with his liver because he was drinking beer.  I heard Titi Magi telling Titi Berta.  Me and Nani and Patri don’t want you to drink beer anymore.  Then Tio Pio died and grandma was screaming again but grandpa didn’t tell her to be quiet.  Grandpa was crying too.  A man with a suit came and put a coffin in the living room and when he opened it Tio Pio was inside.  We were scared but Mami said not to be scared because he wasn’t going to do nothing to us.  We were all crying and then the next day the man came and closed the box and put it on a thing with wheels and everybody walked in the street with the coffin to the cemetery.  The cars stopped and then went slow behind us.  They didn’t even honk for us to move.  When we got to the cemetery there was a hole in the ground and the pastor from the church was there and prayed with us and then two big men put the coffin in the ground with ropes and everyone took some dirt in their hand and the pastor told us to say 2del polvo venimos y al polvo regresamos and throw the dirt on the coffin.  Everybody was crying.  We had to leave and the men took shovels and covered the hole.  Tio Chugo had to carry grandma to the car, and everyone was sad because you couldn’t come.  Thank you for the books you sent me.  I read them to Nani and Patri and Nani can read some of it herself because I taught her.

We love you.  Cuca, Nani, and Patri

1Uncle.

2From dust we come and to dust we return.

****************************************************************************************************************************************

{Teen, 14, on summer vacation in Puerto Rico}

Dear Pa,

          Ma told me to write to you.  When are we coming home?  It’s too hot here.  I miss my friends.  The kids are weird here.  They all want to be my friend because I speak English.  They try to practice their English with me.  I try to teach them how to say their words right, but that’s getting boring already.

          Nani and Patri say hi.  They want to know when we’re coming home, too.  At least in Brooklyn we can go in the Johnny pump when we get hot.  Here we can only go to the beach, and we’re tired of the beach already.

          The only interesting thing that’s happened so far is that Tio Martin took me crabbing with him.  He showed me how he made the cages and then showed me how to put them in the water.  That was cool.  Nani and Patri didn’t want to go because they’re afraid of the crabs.  We brought them home and grandma put them in a huge pot.  When they tried to escape because the water was getting hot, she hit them with a big metal spoon and then threw a lid on the pot so they wouldn’t climb out.  That was funny.

          I think I’m getting too old to come to grandpa’s farm anymore.  The animals stink, the mosquitoes are eating us alive, and it’s HOT.  Maybe Nani and Patri can come without me next time.  We can talk about it when we get home.

We love you.  Cuca, Nani, and Patri