My Corner of the Ring by Jesselyn Silva

Author:Jesselyn Silva
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

HOW I SPENT SUMMER VACATION

Every Sunday, my grandma took Jesiah and me to the Chapel, thirty minutes away in Wayne, New Jersey. It’s a Spanish-speaking Christian church with a Bible school that Jesiah and I also went to twice a week. My grandma had known the pastor there since before I was born, and it had become her community and her sanctuary over time. Papi never came with us—he wasn’t religious, but he was a man of faith. He always said, “Anything that causes division cannot be God. God is love and God is peace.” So Papi did not go to church with us. My grandmother stopped chastising him about it a long time ago—but they did have an unspoken agreement about her taking us every Sunday. Jesiah and I never . . . ever . . . missed Sunday church with our grandmother. I didn’t mind spending the extra time with her. She was always gentle and kind with us. And she was beautiful, too. Wherever we went, people would compliment her on her youthful skin and good looks. Spending time with her, even if it was at church, made up some of my favorite memories.

I hated going to church when I was younger, though. I remember shuffling around in the pew with nervous energy and never listening to anything the minister said. Sermons were boring and confusing—I didn’t get how grown-ups could make sense of any of it. One hour in church seemed like a week.

“I’d rather go to the dentist,” Jesiah would say.

“I’d rather stand in front of a dartboard,” I would say back, and he would laugh.

But as I got older, I started to listen more. I began to like hearing the stories in Spanish, and the music coming from the choir, and I got to know a bunch of cool kids.

On the Sunday morning before we left for Florida to see Abuelo, my grandmother said a prayer out loud: “Please, God, let my granddaughter outgrow her obsession with this boxing thing.” Then she looked at me to see if I was listening. I rolled my eyes. “And if she won’t listen to her wise old grandmother, then please keep her safe in the boxing ring.”

As we walked out of church later that morning, she said, “I don’t understand why you’re traveling all the way down to Florida to watch a boxing tournament instead of spending quality time with your great-grandfather. Why don’t you go to the beach?” We usually didn’t tell my grandmother about boxing tournaments because she tended to worry too much. But my grandmother always found out about them anyway, because Jesiah always spilled the beans.

“Grandma, we’ll go to the beach, too.”

She gave me a look that said she didn’t really believe me.

“But I also want to see a little of this.” And I began to shadowbox as we walked down the street.

“Oh, this fighting you do, Jess . . . I don’t like it. It makes me nervous. It’s not a sport for young ladies.

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