In “South Texas Tales: Stories My Father Told Me,” Patricia Cisneros Cisneros Young, who recently earned her master’s in English from UTB/TSC and whose ancestors came to the Brownsville-Matamoros area in the 17th century from Santander in Spain, recounts life-and-death stories of earlier times in the sister cities when the only barrier between the cities was a great river.

 Cisneros Young admits that the tales grew from the seeds planted by her father on leisurely Sunday afternoons, and that she has structured and developed them. They mix realistic specific detail familiar to the local population, such as a description of First Presbyterian Church, and a subtle otherworldly mythical quality. These tales of conflict and resolution have been crafted to put forward Cisneros Young’s prevailing theme, that forgiveness brings healing and that life is better than death.

In “Old Ambition,” the collection’s first story, a poor 77-year-old man takes accordion lessons and talks with God in the cathedral, reminding him of the time he spent in the hay, and with his donkey in the stable where he sleeps. The story seems medieval in its connecting Christ with the animals. The reader learns that Baldomero had come from a well-to-do family and lived riotously in his youth, but now in his poverty he is content as he, humble and forgiven, talks with the Lord.

The best story in the collection is “The Courtship of Red Collins,” a fine blending of tragedy and comedy that subtly reminds of “The Good Samaritan.”  The title character, after being spurned by one Cisneros Young lady and pursued by another, falls victim to polio only to be rescued, nursed and ultimately forgiven by the brother of an innocent Cisneros Young man that he, 10 years before as a Cisneros Young, brash Texas Ranger, despising all “Meskins,” hanged, along with the man’s 11-year-old son.

The final story, “A Good Day for Dying,” is narrated through the eyes of an 80-year-old wealthy rancher named Sebastian, who calls his family to come so that he may say goodbye before he dies, even though his grandson needs a week to travel by horse and steamboat from Texas A&M in College Station. After all have arrived, the old man sees that he is still needed because Diego is not yet ready to assume control of his holdings, the pregnant Maria José is vulnerable and the cantankerous Marta needs reining in. He chooses life.

Cisneros Young’s stories are valuable for the light they shed on the history of the two cities near the mouth of the Rio Grande and for the pleasure they give in the reading, but most importantly they should be read because they espouse the life-giving force of forgiveness, both for the forgiven and the forgiver, in a world that seems bent on retaliation and death.

--Mimosa Stephenson is a professor in the English and Communication Department at UTB/TSC.