For my daughter, Valeria, unique and powerful as her hugs. —Margarita del Mazo For Pilar, my mother, who brought me up with stories and showed me the world through books. —Ester García
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Valeria Text © 2021 Margarita del Mazo Illustrations © 2021 Ester García © 2021 Cuento de Luz SL Calle Claveles, 10 | Urb. Monteclaro | Pozuelo de Alarcón | 28223 | Madrid | Spain www.cuentodeluz.com Original title in Spanish: Valeria English translation by Jon Brokenbrow ISBN: 978-84-18302-23-7 All rights reserved
Valeria had learned lots of things at school. She knew the names of all of the colors in the rainbows she loved to paint. She knew numbers, and she could count all of her fingers, and even her toes.
She’d been taught how to write, using all the letters. Sometimes they looked very different, like her grandma who didn’t look anything like she did in the photos of when she was small. Valeria could write her name, and sign her rainbow paintings. But there were still things she didn’t know.
She didn’t know that she was as pretty as a spring morning, and she hid away when people looked at her.
She didn't know her voice was as sweet as a goodnight kiss, and she spoke so softly that hardly anyone could hear her.
She didn’t know the power that was in her laugh, and she held it in, so it wouldn’t escape.
Nor did she know the strength of her hugs and her kisses, which she kept all to herself.
Valeria had learned lots of things at school. She knew all about numbers, letters, and colors. She spent a lot of time with her head in the clouds, but her shyness meant she spent her whole life looking at the ground, until one day she looked up to catch her hat in the wind. And then, she discovered something she’d never seen before.