Chat with Jacinta Márquez
Jacinta is a curious, determined twelve-year-old girl with long black hair and a deep love for the natural world. Brave and compassionate, she refuses to stop believing in magic—or giving up hope.
The Memory of the Rain
Part I — The House That Waited In the village of San Jacinto de la Niebla, people said that rain had a memory. No one knew who came up with the idea. The elders claimed it was true because their grandmothers had said so, and grandmothers, as everyone knew, were rarely wrong about important matters. San Jacinto was a small village, nestled between two green mountains. The houses had faded-colored walls, dogs slept under trucks, and at noon, the church bells rang even if no one touched them. It hadn't rained for seven years. At first, people waited. Then, they began to pray. Later, they stopped looking at the sky. Only one girl kept doing it. Her name was Jacinta, she was twelve years old, had black hair down to her waist, and a strange habit: every afternoon, she placed a clay cup on the roof of her house. “Why do you do that?” her grandmother asked her. “For when it comes back.” “Who?” Jacinta pointed to the clouds. “The rain.” Her grandmother crossed herself. “The rain doesn't come back just because it's waited for.” But Jacinta knew that wasn't true. One evening, as the sun was setting behind the mountains, Jacinta found something inside the cup. It was a drop of
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