Page 1
Gustavo was the worst mariachi in the world. Everyone else in the family band could play an instrument. But not Gustavo. He did not play songs at weddings or at restaurants. He did not wear a charro suit or a sombrero.
Page 2
Sometimes he reached for the bow of his brother Raymundo's violin. Raymundo quietly said, "Don't touch the bow of my violin. You might break it. It is not for you."
Sometimes Gustavo tried to play his Uncle Enrique's brass trumpet. Uncle Enrique gently said, “Put down my trumpet. You might drop it. It is not for you."
Gustavo did not even try to pick up his father's guitar. It was taller than he was.
Page 3
Gustavo
wondered how
it would feel to strum the long
strings. He imagined everyone
would listen. People would look at him.
The men and women would get up and
dance. All the children would dance
and clap. He would be Gustavo, the great mariachi. But that would never happen. No one would let him play. He would always be the worst mariachi in the world.
Page 4
Even his cousins would not let him
try to play their guitar, trumpet or violin.
They would say, "This is not for you."
"Hmm," Gustavo thought, "I want to
be in the band-in the mariachi band.
But what can I do?"
Page 5
Gustavo got up one morning before dawn. He looked out into the desert and saw the cacti. The saguaro cactus stood like huge trees. The nopales cactus lay close to the ground. The sky was a black bowl of stars. Somewhere an owl hooted. A coyote padded over the sand. Everything was beautiful. No one was there to play. But he had to stand up and sing. He just had to sing.
Page 6
He sang softly at first, barely moving his lips. The next day he got up a little earlier. He sang in a whisper. The day after that Gustavo, sang a little bit louder.
Page 7
The following day he sang louder still.
He did not think about where he was or how early it was.
Page 8
Before the first rooster crowed, before the first light of day peeked out from the east, Gustavo sang, and sang at the top of his voice. One by one, the lights in the houses came on. A man called out, “What is happening?” A woman wondered, “Who is that?” A child asked, “Who is that singing?”
Page 9
Gustavo kept singing.
He sang of traveling men.
He sang of faraway places
and of coming home again.
He sang all the songs he knew.
He sang all the songs that he
knew like his own name.
Page 10
A crowd of people came out to listen.
At last Gustavo finished singing. He was done with his songs. He turned to go inside. It was time to feed the chickens.
Page 11
The people started to clap. They liked his singing! They were clapping for his songs.
"Gustavo!" they called out. "Bravo! Very good!" They kept clapping. Women waved their handkerchiefs.
Page 12
His brother gave him a big hug and said, "You are a real mariachi."
His father said, "You, my son, just may be the best mariachi in the world."
Page 13
His cousins carried Gustavo, the best
mariachi, into the house. They made
him a huge breakfast. Then they fed
the chickens for him.
Page 14
The next time the band played, Gustavo
wore a charro suit. He wore a sombrero.
He sang the songs that had brought
everyone outside.
Page 15
All the people clapped and cheered. He took off his sombrero and took a deep bow.
"This," Gustavo thought, "is for me."
