3.2 Model the Concept of Inferencing with a Read-Aloud
Inferencing Skill Explainer
Marion McBride, M.Ed.Mango, Abuela, and Me
- By: Meg Medina and illustrated by Angela Dominguez
- Genre: fiction
- Age Level: 5 to 8 years
- Reading Level: kindergarten to third grade
Meg Medina is an award-winning Cuban American author who writes picture books, middle grade, and YA fiction. Watch her interview (opens in new window) on our sister site, Colorín Colorado.
Language: English with Spanish vocabulary featured
Publisher: Candlewick
Purchase on Bookshop (opens in new window)
Purchase on Amazon (opens in new window)
- By: Meg Medina and illustrated by Angela Dominguez
- Genre: fiction
- Age Level: 5 to 8 years
- Reading Level: kindergarten to third grade
Meg Medina is an award-winning Cuban American author who writes picture books, middle grade, and YA fiction. Watch her interview (opens in new window) on our sister site, Colorín Colorado.
Language: English with Spanish vocabulary featured
Publisher: Candlewick
Purchase on Bookshop (opens in new window)
Purchase on Amazon (opens in new window)
Synopsis of Mango, Abuela, and Me
Mia’s grandmother has left her sunny tropical home with parrots, palm trees, and memories, and has come to live with Mia and her parents in the city. The transition is made more difficult for both Mia and her “far-away” grandmother because Abuela only speaks Spanish and Mia only speaks English. Mia finds a way to overcome their language barrier while also making Abuela feel more at home by giving her a pet parrot. The book offers a lesson on overcoming difficulties and celebrates family bonds.
The rest of the winter, while Mami and Papi are at work, Abuela waits for me to get home from school. Then we bundle up in thick socks and handmade sweaters to walk to the park and toss bread to the sparrows.
My español is not good enough to tell her the things an abuela should know. Like how I am the very best in art and how I can run as fast as the boys.
Let’s look at the picture. What do you notice about Abuela’s face? Why is she looking away? How do you think she feels?
After school the next day, while Abuela and I are making meat pies for our snack, I pretend I am Miss Wilson.
“Dough,” I say, pointing to the ball.
Abuela says, “Dough. Masa,” and rolls it flat.
“Masa,” I say.
She drops a spoonful of meat in place. “Carne.”
“Carne,” I say. “Meat.”
“Pasas.” “Raisins!”
“Aceite.” “Oil!”