Final answer:
Esperanza reflects on her past house on Loomis Street, surrounded by marigold trees, now belonging to another family yet retaining memories of her upbringing. She is told not to dwell on the past, but the house invokes a deep sense of nostalgia and fosters her dreams for a future home of her own making.
Step-by-step explanation:
On the Loomis Street, amidst the marigold trees, the house that once was my sanctuary stands still. It continues to be kissed by the sun, hugged by the wind, and serenaded by the laughter of children running down the street. As I stand here, a valuables-laden carriage rattles by, reminding me that this house, which once echoed with the chortles of my small, warm family, now shelters others. Doors that I remember closing softly, now clap with a foreign gusto; windows that framed our humble dreams, now reflect a strange ambition. Yet, what remains unfazed is the marrow of the house—the walls that absorbed my fears, the floors that bore witness to my first toddling steps, and the ceilings that heard my silent pleas for a future beyond these bricks.
My father tells me not to indulge in the past, to not let the vines of bygone days entwine my hopes. But how can one simply walk away from the cradle of their yesteryears? Every carved crevice of the woodwork, every caress of the wind against the shutters, speaks to me, whispering tales of resilience and the courage to dream. It tells me of a future house, one that springs from the fertile soil of determination—a house not made from the clay of expectation, but from the stardust of aspirations, from the ink of stories yet to be penned.