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Homes: reading realistic fiction; Feels Like Home 3

Problem

Read the two passages, then answer the practice question.

A New Home

Luciana pinched her eyes closed for what felt like the hundredth time. She just couldn’t sleep—she was excited, yes. But she was worried, too.
Picture 1
“I don’t have to feel worried,” she whispered into the dark. “Tomorrow we will all be together again. Papi says that California is a lot like Mexico. A new country and a new home isn’t bad. New beginnings can be good.”
Luciana turned onto her side and let out a slow, calming breath. She reached out and pressed her palm against the cool, smooth adobe stone wall next to her. “My new house will have walls just like these,” she whispered. “They will be tall and strong and will keep me safe.” Luciana inhaled again and pushed out another slow, cool breath.
And Papi will be there, she thought, a familiar smile tugging at her lips. Luciana hadn’t seen Papi for nearly a year, since the time he first left to work on the farms in America. She’d been waiting for so long for tomorrow to come—the day they’d all be together again!
Luciana pulled her arm back from the wall, grasping the blankets around her and tucking them beneath her chin. Papi will teach me everything I need to know about our new home. Luciana took one last deep pull of air and pushed it out slowly, inviting sleep.
Luciana gripped Mami’s hand tightly as they stepped off the bus. She turned and watched, wanting to make sure that Abuela stepped off after her. She grabbed Abuela’s hand before turning to squint into the crowd standing under the blazing sunlight.
“Luciana!”
Luciana whipped around to see a man rushing forward. “Papi!” Luciana called out. She dropped Mami’s and Abuela’s hands, running to meet Papi’s outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Papi whispered as he hugged her tightly. “Let’s go see your new home.”
Luciana smiled. Her new home was made of red stone, just like her old one.
She stepped closer, eager to press her palm to the smooth, cooling stone. But something was wrong. This stone wasn’t cool or smooth. It felt rough, grabbing and clawing at her skin. She pulled her hand back and peered closely at the perfect rectangular blocks.
“What’s this stone?” she turned and asked Papi.
“It’s brick,” he replied. “Brick houses are very strong and stable, Luci. I want the strongest for my best girl.”
Luciana nodded.
Picture 2
“Good,” she said. “It is different, but it’s good. I like it, Papi.”
Papi’s face broke into a wide smile as he opened the front door and led the family inside.

Feels Like Home

  1. Luciana stared through the glass, the blur of trees and sky passing by the window, marking the spaces between the bus stops. She yawned, her heavy eyelids drooping. She’d been in her new home two weeks now, but she had a hard time sleeping. She missed her old home.
  2. “I know what you need,” Abuela had said when Luciana had confided in her a few days ago. “Come with me.”
  3. Abuela had walked into the kitchen and pulled a cookie sheet from the cabinet. Luciana thought maybe Abuela was going to cook one of her favorite meals to comfort her. But Abuela had opened the kitchen door and walked outside, carrying the cookie sheet in her hand.
  4. Luciana had followed her into the yard. Abuela had handed her a small shovel and picked up a trowel herself. “Dig here,” she’d said. Luciana was confused, but did as she’d been told. “Abuela?” she’d begun, but Abuela had shushed her and pointed at the small pile of dirt. Luciana dug a bit more until the sandy soil gave way to cool, red clay.
  5. Abuela wet the pile of earth with a nearby water hose before mixing the clay and sandy soil with her hands.
  6. “Help me mix,” she’d said, taking Luciana’s hands and pushing them into the mixture. She’d laughed at Luciana’s face, her nose scrunched up, her brows furrowed in confusion.
  7. “Now here,” she’d said, pointing to the cookie sheet. She’d watched as Luciana placed handfuls of the mud onto the tray, then had run her hand along the top of the sheet to smooth it before using her trowel to cut lines through the wet mud.
  8. “Abuela, I don’t understand,” Luciana had said. “How is mud on a tray going to help me?”
  9. “Be patient,” Abuela had replied. “You will see.”
  10. The bus lurched to a stop, bringing Luciana’s mind back to the present. She stood and made her way off the bus and down the narrow path to her home.
  11. She smiled when she spotted Abuela waiting for her.
  12. “I have a surprise for you,” Abuela said as Luciana approached. “Come with me.”
  13. Luciana followed Abuela onto the porch, where she spotted the metal tray. Only the mud wasn’t mud anymore. A few days’ baking in the sunlight had hardened it to stone.
  14. “Is it . . .” Luciana’s voice trailed off as she stepped closer to the tray. She pressed her hand against the smooth surface. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she turned and looked at Abuela. “It’s adobe, isn’t it?” she asked. “Just like the walls of our old house in Mexico.”
  15. Abuela smiled and nodded. “I miss our old home, too,” she whispered. “But home is always with us, Luci. You, me, Mami, Papi . . . we are what make a home.”
  16. That night, Luciana pulled the covers up under her chin and closed her eyes. She reached out and placed her hand on the cool, smooth piece of stone she’d placed on her nightstand, and smiled.

Practice question

Match each detail to the story it came from.
A New Home
Feels Like Home
Luciana rides the bus to her new school
Luciana and Abuela work together on a project.
Luciana leaves Mexico to move to the United States
Luciana is surprised by the rough stone.
Luciana travels to join her father.