My mother, along with all of my godparents, began planning my quinceañera after I turned fourteen. My mother and aunts took me to bridal
shop
where I was fitted for a long, white gown, which I would wear at the celebration. | felt my cheeks grow red with embarrassment as the
women fawned and fussed over me in the store. I desperately wished that I could
ust find a hole to crawl Into and hide, but there was no way
out. My mother, who was in her glory, naturally assumed that the redness In my face
It was her day, I kept telling myself. was doing this for her.
was glow of happiness. I let her go right on thinking that.
At last, the big day came. My father cooked up a special breakfast for my
brothers and me first thing that morning. I had a queasy feeling In the
pit of my stomach, but I was somewhat comforted by my father's easygoing manner and his apparent anticipation of the celebration ahead.
After breakfast, my mother helped me dress
for the quinceañera. While she was styling my halr, she paused every so
affection for her. of Joy that had trickled down her face. I couldn't recall ever having seen my mother quite this happy, and suddenly my heart swelled with often to wipe avjay a tear
Two hours later, found
pews.
myself standing In the front of a church while all of my dearest friends and family members gazed up at me from
after all; it was for me. As I looked out on the smiling, supportive faces of all the people I loved, I had an unexpected realization. This day
the
wasn't for my mother
The church ceremony was
followed by a fiesta that lasted all day and
Into the night. My Important to me. prepare. A disc jockey played all of the music I loved, and I was showered with beautiful gifts, practical advice, and parents served food that they had worked for days to
good wishes from everyone
stories about long-gone relatives. My heritage, I realized, was very real. As I watched my family members celebrate in my honor, I realized that my Mexican heritage was not something Intangible, like ; was with me at all times, and I was proud of it.
bunch of old
What is the purpose of this
essay?