Cinderella #109 La Reina de Frijoles/ The Bean Queen (2011)

Dried beans, corn, and seeds.

Once upon a time, in the Huasteca Region of Mexico, there lived a man with three daughters.  They lived on the same piece of land that the man's father had lived on, and his father before him, and so on.  This line of ancestors reached far back in time.  The thread that connected the generations of this family was green. It grew quickly in the soil on their land, and became covered with thick pods.  These were rebosero beans, whose rich, meaty flavor filled the bellies of this man, and his daughters, every day.  The beans, grown in the deep, red soil of Hidalgo, drew their color and strength from the careful tending of the bean farmer.  When he was a young man, he had not been the only bean farmer in his village.  Back then, the market place was crowded with families crouched on grass mats, clay ollas of speckled purple, green, black, white, and red frijoles, dried and ready for sale. But nowadays so few families grew the beans. Many young people preferred to go north seeking jobs that paid cash. There was no future in the dusty bean fields, they said. Anyway, it seemed so much easier to buy a big plastic sack of them at the store.   But the bean man continued sowing his frijoles.  He and his family ate many of them, and the rest he sold.  His wife worked with him in the fields.  The bean crop expanded, and so did his family.  Soon there were three little girls working along with the bean man in the fields.  The crop increased, and now the bean man hired help for the fields, so that his wife and daughters did not have to work so hard.  Two of his daughters were grateful for this: they hated working in the hot field, among the thick vines.  And after picking them all day, the last thing they wanted to do was cook them and eat them, they said!  But the youngest daughter loved the bean fields as much as her father did. All day she worked with him, listening while he sang to the beans and talked to them. Encouraging them to spread their roots deep and wide and their leaves broad and strong, the bean man and his daughter tended the vines like so many children.  All three of the daughters went to school during the day, but only the younger one came out to the fields in the cool of the evening.  As the years passed, the older girls refused to go into the fields, claiming that their hands became rough and their faces darkened from the work.  Soon these two spent less and less time with the bean man on the farm, and more time in town.  As soon as they were old enough, they married, heading for the big city.  They left the green of the countryside to seek a different kind of green, that printed on paper.  But the bean man's youngest daughter continued to work the fields.  She finished school and taught her father how to maximize profits.  They hired more field help, and the crop increased. At the markets on the weekends, the bean man and his daughter were often the only two sitting on grass mats.  Their had many beans to sell, and the price they asked seemed a fair one for the work of tending the vines and plucking the pods.  But more and more often, they returned home from market with ollas of beans still full, and pockets still empty. Their neighbors laughed at them and told them they were wasting their time.  Nobody eats those funny old beans any more they said, waggling their plastic bags filled with beans that looked like they were made out of the same thing.  The years passed, and the bean man's wife died.  He and his daughter continued to sell the beans, but his energy was fading and he knew that his vitality was nearing its end.  One night, as he and his daughter ate bowls of rich bean stew, he said to her, " Hija, you have helped me in the fields, raising the beans.  Your sisters kept their hands soft and their faces out of the sun.  Such was their choice.  Their fair faces won them husbands and their lives will take the path now laid out for them. But you, daughter, have worked beside me in the fields.  Your hands are rough and your face is dark.  You are my Ugly One, my Little Bean Queen, and you have always been at my side.  To you, and you alone, I leave the farm and the fields.  Soon I will be gone, but I will watch you from heaven, and watch over our beans." Before the year was out, the bean man had died.  His daughter married the farm manager, and together, they worked in the fields. They did not increase the crop because they knew that they could not increase their sales. But the beans fed them and their families, and the families of all of their field helpers.  On Saturdays, the Ugly One and her husband went to the markets, sitting on their grass mat and selling ollas of frijoles. The years passed, and soon they had six children working in the fields beside them.  And soon, those children were grown and gone. How does time pass so quickly? It seemed impossible that it was twenty five years since her father had left her the bean farm, but so it was.  The Ugly One  and her husband continued to raise beans, eating them and selling them, and the years passed.  Five of their sons had gone north in search of jobs that paid cash.  Only one remained, working the bean fields with his parents.  He took a wife, and soon had four sons of his own.  One by one, these sons went north, looking for jobs that paid cash.  One day, the Ugly One's youngest grandson spoke to her as they worked the fields.  "Abuelita, " he said, "there is no future in these dusty bean fields. I love these vines, but how can I become rich by sitting on a grass matt selling a few ollas of frijoles? I also love Xochitl, the most beautiful girl in the world.  For her, I want to become a rich man so that we can travel the world. I wish that there were a way I could stay here, but I do not see one. Next month, I am going to head north, to look for work that pays cash." And the Ugly One was very sad, because she knew that what her grandson had told her was true.  That night she was restless and could not sleep.  Quietly, she slipped out of bed and went out to the bean fields.  As she walked up and down the rows, singing to the vines, and encouraging them to spread their roots and leaves. she remembered her father, and the many times he had sung these songs.  His voice filled her ears and to her surprise, she felt tears flowing down her cheeks.  Such a rain of them fell from her eyes that her toes were splashed with their salt water and the beans were sprinkled with their drops.  In the morning, she packed up her ollas and went to market.  There she saw a crowd gathered around the grass mat where her husband was selling their beans.  Her husband gestured to her frantically, and she rushed over.  An American man with peeling pink skin and a chubby belly was crouched in front of their ollas, fingering their beans. "This fat, crazy white man wants to buy all of our beans!" her husband whispered to her. "Great, that's great!" said the Ugly One. "No, I mean all of them, the ones in the field, the whole crop, as many beans as we can give him he will buy! He says that he will pay us in advance for the crop, my dear, a sum that I dare not speak aloud. Call our grandson. He speaks English and will help us figure out how to get rid of this crazy guy." So the woman called her grandson, and he came quickly, and spoke English with the fat pink man.  When he had done, he told his grandmother to give the man all of her beans, and the ollas and the grass mat as well.  He showed her a thick roll of cash, and the Ugly One nearly fainted at the sight of the money.  When he had driven his grandparents home, he told them that he would find out whether the man was crazy or not, and whether it was safe to sell him any more beans. That night, the Ugly One dreamed of her father.  He was waling among the bean vines, singing, and encouraging them to spread their leaves and roots.  Then he turned to her and spoke.  "M'hija,' he said,"my daughter, my little Ugly One, my Bean Queen! Hold out your hands." And when the Ugly One stretched out her hands, her father filled them with beans of solid gold, so heavy that she woke up with the weight still in her hands.  The morning sun was streaming through the window, and her grandson stood on the front porch.  His face was as joyful as a child's.  The American was not crazy and he himself would not go north to look for work. He pulled out a business contract and explained to his grandmother that the man owned a company in California called Fatty Farm.  The company worked to import heirloom beans from Mexico and would pay her well for her crop.  All she had to agree to was to continue singing the same songs, and working her vines in the way that her father had taught her.  The Ugly One and her husband smiled like children eating birthday cake.  They signed the contract, and today the Bean Queen is a wealthy woman.  She and her husband hired more workers to help in the field, and increased their crop. In 2010, they sold two thousand pounds of reboso beans to the fat, crazy white man, and the Bean Queen, and her husband, and their grandson, and his beloved Xochitl, lived happily ever after. 

Notes: This story is true! It is based on Finz, S., (2011, April 16).Napa Heirloom Bean Venture Changes Lives in Mexico. The San Francisco Chronicle, pp.D-1,4. View at http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2011/04/16/BUUQ1J1LG1.DTL
Montessori Connection: Our Neighbor, Mexico/Author: Gary Soto
1. Read this story, and know that it is true!
2. Learn more about growing beans:From Seed to Plant; Sprout Garden 3 Tray Family Sprouting Kit - Includes: Sprouter, Drainboard, Covers, 3 Sprouting Trays, 2 Oz of Certified Organic Alfalfa Seed, Instructions. Grow Healthy Fresh Sprouts in Your Own Kitchen!, 
3. Learn more about the way that people from Mexico come to the United States looking for jobs that pay cash: The Other Side: How Kids Live in a California Latino Neighborhood (World of My Own) or California Kids: An Indian Girl, a Mexican Boy, and a Yankee Girl Born in California Before 1850
4. Think about how the Bean Queen felt when her grandson said he thought that he would leave home to look for work. Harvesting Hope: The Story of Cesar Chavez; Esperanza Rising
5. Think about whether beans could really be gold, like in the Ugly One's dream about her father. 
6. Consider that if the Bean Queen can sell her beans for lots of money, they are LIKE gold. 
7. Consider that her grandson is more valuable to her than gold, and that because he does not have to leave Mexico to earn money, his family is richer for his presence. 
8. Read books by Gary Soto and learn what life in Fresno, CA is like for many Latino kids: 

Cinderella #82 Domítíla (2000)

Her mother's spirit remained with her. McClennan, C. 

Once upon a time, in Hidalgo, Mexico, there lived a farmer.  He had a wife, and a daughter, and both were as lovely in heart as they were in face.  The girl's name was Domítíla . While her father worked the fields, her mother made sandals and belts of leather,  working exquisite designs into the surface.  One season, the family worked hard together to build a new room for their home from adobe bricks. The mother taught her little daughter as her own mother had taught her: to do "every task with care and always add a generous dash of love."  The adobe bricks were made of mud and straw, and, once the sun had baked them hard, would make a fine house. Alas, the sun did not get the chance to bake the bricks before the rains came.  They melted into mud, and the house was damp and chilly because of it.  And now Domítíla's mother took sick.  Her cough worsened, and she shivered in the damp room while she worked on a pair of sandals.  Domítíla knew that she must help her family earn money, or soon there would be no food in the house.  She went to her Papà and asked how she could help.  And that is how she found herself working in the kitchen at the mansion of the Governor of Hidalgo. The  good wages she earned there would provide well for the girl and her family.  Soon, her fine cooking skills were noted, and one night she was asked to make a special dish.  The Governor's mother was coming for Sunday dinner, and the cook asked Domítíla to "make something to please old Abuela and her grandson."  So the girl fixed one of her mother's favorite recipes.  When it was served, the Governor's oldest son scowled and said, " I have never seen anything like this before.  Call in the cook!" So she was brought upstairs.  Now the young man shouted at her," What is on this platter?" When Domítíla told him the name of the dish, nopales, he raged. " Nopales?  You call nopales a prized food? They are nothing but prickly, dusty desert weeds!"  But the young man's grandmother scolded him for his bad manners, and insisted that he try a bite.  Timoteo, for that was his name, took up a bit of the cactus on his fork, just to keep the peace. ¡That's when he tasted their delicious flavor! Now he said, " This weed has been turned into a delicacy.  What is your secret?"  And the young cook answered, " I do not have a secret, Señor.  I cook the way my mother taught me." Domítíla went to bed happy that night, but her happiness was not to last.  She was woken in the dark of night by a servant, with a message that she must return home as quickly as she could.  Her Mamá was not better, but worse.  Though she ran as fast as she could, all the way home, she saw her father's sorrow written on his face from afar.  Her beloved Mamá was dead.  Now she went into her mother's empty room and sat down to pray. "Through her grief, Domítíla felt a warm presence.  Looking up, she blinked her eyes, then blinked again.  There before her appeared her mother's spirit.  'I will always be with you, my child, and remember what my mother told me, and her mother told her. Do every task with care, and always add a generous dash of love."  The spirit spoke these words to her, and then faded from sight. Back at the mansion, Timoteo was looking forward to a delicious breakfast.  But when he took the first bite, he nearly choked.  ¡This food had not been prepared by the same hands as the wonderful nopales! He called for the cook and when she came, he did not know if she was the one from the night before or not.  So many cooks worked at the mansion, and he had never before bothered to try and keep track of their names.  This one said she was Third Cook, and that Second Cook, who had prepared his supper, had left during the night.  In such a hurry too, said she, that she lost a strap of her sandal.  She drew it forth and Timoteo looked on it awe.  " Its surface was finely carved and the design was a chorus of flowing strokes.  'Can this be the work of that girl?' he murmured."  Now Timoteo demanded to know where this amazing girl lived.  Third Cook could only say, " I do not know, Señor.  All she mentioned was a ranch, somewhere in Hidalgo far away from here."  He called for his horse to be saddled, and went to tell his father that he was leaving to seek the woman.  Now Abuela came forward again, and handed him "a delicately embroidered silk shawl from her shoulders. 'This mantón has been in our family for generations.  If you must go, take it, and know that my love goes with you."  He thanked his abuelita and rode away.  He chose to go west.  Unfortunately, Domítíla had gone to the east.  As he rode across the country, he asked as he passed each farm if the people knew of a girl who cooked nopales and worked leather very skillfully. Many people had heard of her, but no one knew which direction her home lay.  At last a woman offered to help. She gave Timoteo very clear directions — that were guaranteed to get him lost and take him as far from Domítíla's home as could be.  This woman, was a beggar, with nothing of her own. Her  name was Malvina, and she had the idea that her own daughter could marry this Governor's son.  She called her lazy girl now, and made her get up from napping under a tree.  Her girl was a good-for-nothing, just like her mother.  Now wicked Malvina told the girl that she had a plan. The two of them would go into town, and the daughter would cry at people's front doors, asking for food.  While this kept the family busy, Malvina would go around the back and steal crops from their garden, or perhaps even a chicken and some eggs. So this was just what they did.  And when they had gathered their supplies, those two thieves went in search of Domítíla's house.  They knew that they would find her father there, lonely, and perhaps, willing to take them on as wife and daughter.  Poor Papá! He was lonely, and hungry too.  When he and Domítíla came home from the fields and found a meal upon the table, he fell instantly in love with she who had provided it.  And now Domítíla's life became truly miserable.  That woman and her daughter ordered her about in her own home, and gobbled up most of what little food came from the farm.  All summer and into the fal Timoteo wandered in his search for the cook.  One day, when he was especially discouraged, he heard music.  And then he smelled something, an scent he had thought never to smell again! It was nopales, and he followed their delicious fragrance.  Malvina had not anticipated this turn of events. The man came to a village square where a celebration was in place.  In answer to his queries, the folks told him that the nopales were cooked by a young leather worker, by the name of Domítíla. The girl was not at the celebration, they said, as she was visiting her mother's grave.  They pointed the way to the cemetery, and Timoteo went there straight away. And there he saw a beautiful young girl, wearing a pair of sandals whose design matched the strap he had saved.  He spoke gently to her, and explained why he had come.  Realizing that he must be hungry, she "untied her scarf and took out a tortilla filled wtih her delicious nopales." As he ate, Timoteo came to realize that the special ingredient in the food was love itself: the love that the girl's mother had shown for her child was a part of everything this young woman now did. He asked her to become his wife, and she agreed.  They were married, and before long, he became Governor of Hidalgo.  " The kind ways his wife had taught him brought prosperity and good will to all the citizens of the land.  The wicked Malvina" and her lazy daughter fled in shame, but Domítíla's good father moved into the mansion and lived with them in peace and comfort.  And when Timoteo's house was filled with children, he bounced them and played with them, and his loving wife taught them to "do every task with care, and never, ever forget to add a generous dash of love."  From Domítíla: A Cinderella Tale from the Mexican Tradition (Coburn, J.R., 2000.Auburn, California: Shen's Books 

Notes: This has some very classic Cinderella elements, including the fact that the young girl goes into service in the kitchen of a wealthy man. He would be a king and the mansion would be a castle in a European version.  Here we have a shoe as well that is the clue the young man follows.  And as in some of the English, German and Italian stories,  it is a special dish cooked by the girl that entices her groom-to-be to find her.  The stepmother and daughter are thieves and boss the girl around, but at least they do not do her any violence. 

Montessori Connection Ages 6-12 Fundamental Needs of People/Food/Mexican Cooking/Nopales

1. Read the story and notice how important food is in the tale. 

2. Notice who has plenty of food, and who has none.

3. Learn about how the place a person lived in previous times could limit their choices on what there was available to eat. 

4. Make the nopales recipe in the back of this book, or try: Cool Mexican Cooking: Fun and Tasty Recipes for Kids (Cool World Cooking) or Handstand Kids Mexican Cookbook (Handstand Kids) (Handstand Kids) (Handstand Kids). 

Cinderella #32 Adelita: A Mexican Cinderella Story (2002)

Written and illustrated by de Paola, T.

Había una vez, en México, —once upon a time, in Mexico— there lived a kind and prosperous merchant and his wife, Adela. One day she shared the joyful news that she was expecting a baby, and her husband Francisco said, “ Me hace muy feliz saberlo—I am so happy.” He sent for his nursemaid, Esperanza. Her name meant hope, and she had taken care of Francisco himself when he was small. The kind old woman arrived shortly and all seemed well. Then tragedy struck: soon after Adela delivered a healthy baby girl she died. Francisco was heartbroken, but he and Esperanza raised the child. They named her after her mother, calling her Little Adela, or Adelita. The years passed and Adelita grew up and “La casa de Mercado se llanó de alegría—the Mercado house was full of happiness.” At least for a while. There came a day when Francisco spoke with his daughter and her maid, telling them, “Les tengo noticias—I have some news for you. “ He told them that he was going to remarry, and that the lady’s name was Señora Micaela de la Fortuna. Those of her daughters were Valentina and Dulce, and they were close to Adelita’s age. The girl was happy at first, but after the new stepsisters paid their first visit, Esperanza said, “Que frios son—they’re cold ones.” ¡And the names of Valentine and Candy surely did not fit their temperaments! Nonetheless, the wedding took place and the new family settled down. Time were different but Adelita’s father still found time for “ importantes momentos juntos—special moments together. “ Still, Esperanza worried. She did not like the way the stepmother always favored her children over her new husband’s daughter. But Adelita told her, “ Es natural—it’s natural. “ But tragedy struck again. Francisco caught a chill, and before anything could be done, he died. And now the spiteful Señora showed her true colors. Adelita was sent to a room in the attic, and her clothing now taken by the other girls. Valentina and Dulce mocked her constantly, with no care for her feelings of loss. She retreated to the kitchen, and Esperanza. “Because she knew that Esperanza loved her, her heart stayed warm as the fire in the hearth. “ Soon she learned to cook as well as Esperanza, and, as the elder lady moved more slowly, Adelita took over much of her work. To her horror, the cruel Señora noticed this, and saw a way to save money. Declaring that since Esperanza was too old to work, and Adelita now old enough to take over the job, so it would be. With that, she threw Esperanza into the street, deaf to her cries. But Adelita had little time to grieve. The sisters, Valentine and Candy blossomed into a pair of vicious bullies. For Adelita, they seemed to take on new names, “ maldad y vinagre—meanness and vinegar.” And so the grim and dreary years went  by until one day, la Señora announced that an invitation from the wealthy neighbors had been issued. “Una fiesta en su hacienda—a party at their ranch—to celebrate the homecoming of their son, Javier.” And that was not all. “Se rumora—rumor has it— that he will be looking for a wife!” My, how those three conniving women began to plan, and my! How busy they kept Adelita. Finally, the night of the fiesta arrived. Adelita, alone at last, was overcome by her misery. She wept all the tears for all the sorrows she had endured. And that’s when she heard a “soft knock at the door. ‘Who is it?’Adelta asked. ‘Soy yo—only me.’ It was Esperanza! “ She told the girl that she had come because of a dream she had, un sueño about the long dead Adela. She hurried over to a corner of the store room behind the kitchen, and pointed: there, hidden behind the pots and pans, was a trunk. “ The key is behind the crucifix’ Adelita unlocked the trunk. Inside she found an old fashioned, beautiful white dress. Under the dress was magnificent rebozo —shawl—embroidered with birds and flowers. ‘Oh, mi mamacita—my little mother”, Adelita whispered. “ While the girl washed and changed, old Esperanza brought her cart around to the front door. But the girl was terrified of what would happen should the cruel Señora recognize her. “Don’t worry. She never will recognize you, “ Esperanza told her, ¡Now vamanos!—let’s hurry!” So they did. The fiesta was in full swing when they got there, but “ the room fell silent. Who was this stunning young woman?” When Señor Gordillo asked her name, the girl said, “I’m in disguise. ‘ with a twinkle and a sweet smile. ‘Just call me Cenicienta—Cinderella!” He was enchanted, but his son, Javier, was positively bewitched. All evening he doted on her, bringing her refrescos in between the dances. But suddenly, as midnight drew near, the panicked. How could she explain who she was? Her stepmother would beat her and the guests would laugh. She ran swiftly out the door, and was gone. Esperanza had waited for her, and together they flew home and hid the dress. Adelita was asleep when la Señora looke in on her. But in the morning, shouts roused the girl. Her stepsisters and their mother were discussing the news that Javier was looking high and low for the mysterious girl from the fiesta. “Just like in the fairy tale!” sneered Valentina, only there was “no zapatilla de cristal—glass slipper” to help Javier find her. But he was on the way, and would be in town “hoy misisimo—this very day.” said Doña Micaela. That’s when Adelita had a great idea. She ran to the attic and, taking out her mother’s rebozo from under her mattress, she hung it out the window, and ran back downstairs, quick as a wink. When Javier rode down the street that afternoon on his horse, his heart leapt with joy! He dismounted and knocked on the door. Doña Micaela was waiting hopefully. “Ah, Señor Javier! Pásale, por favor—come in, please.” she said. And Javier swept in and begged to see the beautiful girl. “Valentina, Dulce, come here! Señor Javier would like to meet you.” she sang out, and in walked the sullen sisters. But Javier took one look and asked if there wasn’t another girl in the home. “ There’s no one else here, Doña Micaela said.’ ‘ Yes there is,’ a voice said. ‘Are you looking for me, Señor?” And Javier recognized her at once, not only as his Cenicienta from the night before, but as Adelita Mercado Martinez, a childhood friend. “ I am so happy to have found you again!” he declared, and asked for her hand from Doña Micaela. The selfish spinster longed to tell him no, but she was cowardly as well as cruel, and whispered, “ We shall be honored, Señor Javier.” And so Javier and Adelita were married, and Esperanza came to care for them. Javier looked at his beautiful friend, who was now his wife, and said, “ Just like Cenicienta and her Principe—her prince—we shall live muy felices por siempre—happily ever after—too!’ And they did.”

Notes: This is a fun, bilingual book with just enough Spanish to give the flavor, and translations side by side, so that even if you don't speak a word of Spanish, you get it! I remember the first time I learned the Spanish phrase for 'Once upon a time, ( Había una vez...) while working as a substitute teacher in the Dual Immersion Spanish-English program at Cragmont Elementary in Berkeley. I found it a one of many wonderful children's books in Spanish in the classroom. That was my introduction to the joy of reading a familiar story in a new language. I have  continued to read children's books in Spanish, and highly recommend A Series of Unfortunate Events, en 

Español. The setting translates delightfully to a sort of Gothic Barcelona, and the vocabulary opportunities are delicious, in 

English or Spanish.

 Adelita: A Mexican Cinderella Story  by Tomie de Paola, is easily available at the Berkeley Public Library, and the Multnomah County Library in Portland,OR and likely others. http://multcolib.org/. It is listed for sale at $55 on Amazon. Could it be out of print already? The book is identified on the front flap as a Cinderella story that "draws upon" traditional Mexican tales, including Cenicienta. This story is noteworthy for several things. 1. Although the girl does not have a living animal helper, once again we find birds. The first is a white bird in a cage above Francisco and Adela, on page 1. The 2nd is the one embroidered on Adelita's rebozo. 2. The amusing reference to a glass slipper by one of the spiteful sisters lends this tale an air of reality, as though no one is expecting magic. 3. The childhood friendship as a basis for the love that follows shows us that love itself is magic. 4. The inclusion of a mourning scene depicting Adelita kneeling and weeping before her father's coffin is, to say the least, unusual for a children's book. It may frighten some children (including ones I know) and so I have marked it ☛☻ indicating this. Also, it has pumpkins! This is such an emblematic Cinderella vegetable that we may be surprised to remember how central the pumpkin, and its seeds, are in some Mexican recipes. 

Montessori Connection 6-12: Comparison of Two Countries, India and Mexico. 
1. Read Adelita, and Bopaluchi, from 1-31-11. You will need the real books because you must be able to see the illustrations. 2. Find India and Mexico on the globe. 3. Age nine and up: look up each country in an atlas, and record the basic demographics in your geography notebook. How many people live in each country? What is the size of the country? What hemisphere is each country in, and how does each country's position in relation to the equator affect its climate? 4. See if you notice similarities in choice of color in illustrations. 5. Compare the clothing worn by people in both books. How is it the same? 6. Try cooking a recipe from each country that is similar, and compare them. For Indian and Mexican versions of rice pudding, try these books: A Young Chef's Mexican Cookbook (I'm the Chef), and The Amazing World of Rice, link below.