Alegro and the Very Imperfect Poodle

By Sandra Smithson

Left alone at age seven, having raised himself in a wild and isolated valley to the age of twelve, young Alegro sets out on a journey to find companionship and wealth in a city over the mountain. What he finds is a series of hard lessons that ultimately will change his life for the better in ways he could not imagine. Sandra Smithson tells a tale of adventure and discovery in a world not always friendly but with opportunities in the most unlikely places with the most unlikely people—and one Very Imperfect Poodle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781644628959

Book preview

Chapter One

Zafa Valley

Once upon a time in a faraway land, it happened that a very wise old man had lived alone for many years. He decided to marry a young maiden so that together they might leave behind something of themselves, a child, a gift to the earth. The old man, however, feared the evil influences of crowded towns, so he and his young wife packed their few belongings and traveled far away to the uninhabited Zafa Valley, which means the valley of innocence. There, to the great joy of the old man in his fading years, a beautiful bright-eyed boy was born. The eyes of the tiny infant were so bright and the round copper face so alive and joyful that the old man named him Alegro, which means happiness.

At the birth of the infant, the old man looked to his wife as she lay pained and exhausted in streams of perspiration on the straw mat. Hoping to encourage her, he said, I know that our son will bring happiness wherever he goes in the world.

He sat down on the floor by the mat to continue to comfort his wife, and he gathered the infant into his arms. Quietly, as he stared down into the tiny face, he sang a gentle song, a lullaby born from the fullness of his heart.

🎶

Now from our valley where all is free

We send the world a new melody,

Sweet magical music when day is done

From two simple voices, two hearts made one.

Chiquito, Alegro,

Honey and Spice,

Alegro, Chiquito,

Pearl of great price.

Alegro means laughter, and so may his birth

Sprinkle much joy over all the earth.

A diamond, an emerald, a ruby, a pearl—

Alegro, our treasure, is our gift to the world.

Chiquito, Alegro,

Honey and Spice,

Alegro, Chiquito,

Pearl of great price.

The infant Alegro had an innocent face, shining eyes, and a contented nature. But his birth had been difficult. His young mother had labored alone all day and into the quiet dusk of evening. Then even before the sun climbed above the top of Mount Espero, the mountain of hope, she quietly surrendered her life to the Great Spirit that reigned over the mountain.

The old man gathered the infant into his arms.

The old man buried his dear wife quietly in a grave under the shade of a guanacaste tree and watered the newly turned earth with his tears. Though his heart was sad, he struggled to be both father and mother to his little Alegro and to bring up his son in the happy spirit that Alegro’s face had reflected even at birth. During the first year, the old man kept the infant alive on the warm, sweet milk extracted from the fruit of the coconut palm. Then he added a soft mash he made from corn flour and vegetables. After that, he fed the boy whatever he himself ate. He taught Alegro where to find and gather wild fruit, how to grow vegetables, how to fish in the sparkling waters of the small but adequate Zafa Valley river. But his tender care lasted only a short while, for after seven years, the old man, himself, died. When the old man’s days grew short, he called Alegro and said, I must go now and join your mother. You are young, but you have to be a man now, Alegro, and make your own way in the world. You must bring to it your own special gift. I will ask the Great Spirit that your gift be the best gift the world could receive. Remember the music of your father and of the Zafa Valley. I know you can hear the music of all of creation. Keep this special gift in your heart. Listen to the music. Let it guide you, comfort you, and keep you safe and strong. Then he said a tearful goodbye to Alegro and made a path through the trees up the mountain, for he did not want Alegro to see him die. Alegro, just seven years old, was now left alone to make his way in the world.

For a time, he lived by himself at the foot of Mount Espero in the thatched hut left him by his father. It nestled like a nursing babe against the bosom of a guanacaste tree in the Zafa Valley that was home.

At first, Alegro was sad as he grieved for the mother he never knew and the loving father that had been his teacher and companion. But in time, his happy spirit prevailed; and before too many moons, Alegro was running free like the llamas across the wild grasses in the meadows of the fertile valley. His life followed the law of the wind, blowing here and there as his spirit nudged him. And his spirit was the spirit of play. He played in the mango trees, swinging by his legs, which he hooked over the limbs while his uncut hair curled downward toward the ground, and his rich, thick blood reddened his copper cheeks. He played in the clear crystal water that flowed down the mountainside, singing its way over rocks and fallen tree limbs until it gathered itself together, forming a cool pond at the mountain’s base before traveling on through the valley.

When he tired of river and tree, Alegro caught and cuddled wild rabbits, played hide-and-seek with young coyotes, teased the mischievous coati, and chased wild dogs that came and went through the valley like wandering nomads.

For food, he ate tomatoes that reseeded from his father’s garden. He ate wild onions and garlic, the wild berries that loaded runaway bushes, and bananas and mangos that had ripened on the tree. The fruit trees had grown from scattered seeds that birds brought over the mountaintop from the fincas on the other side. Sometimes, Alegro sucked the juice from sweet lemons; and sometimes, in moments of intense joy, he forgot to eat altogether. At those times and the five years that followed, Alegro regarded himself as the luckiest and happiest boy in all the world. But there were other times, too, times when he felt incomplete, felt that something important was missing from his life.

One day, when he was twelve, Alegro was sitting on the bank of the small river, amusing himself by watching the