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We didn’t always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived onLoomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. BeforeKeeler it was Paulina, and before that I can’t remember. But what Iremember most is moving a lot. Each time it seemed there’d be one moreof us. By the time we got to Mango Street we were six—Mama, Papa,Carlos, Kiki, my sister Nenny and me.The house on Mango Street is ours, and we don’t have to pay rent toanybody, or share the yard with the people downstairs, or be careful not tomake too much noise, and there isn’t a landlord banging on the ceiling witha broom. But even so, it’s not the house we’d thought we’d get.We had to leave the flat on Loomis quick. The water pipes brokeand the landlord wouldn’t fix them because the house was too old. We hadto leave fast. We were using the washroom next door and carrying waterover in empty milk gallons. That’s why Mama and Papa looked for ahouse, and that’s why we moved into the house on Mango Street, far away,on the other side of town.They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a realhouse that would be ours for always so we wouldn’t have to move eachyear. And our house would have running water and pipes that worked.And inside it would have real stairs, not hallway stairs, but stairs inside likethe houses on T.V. And we’d have a basement and at least threewashrooms so when we took a bath we wouldn’t have to tell everybody.Our house would be white with trees around it, a great big yard and grassgrowing without a fence. This was the house Papa talked about when heheld a lottery ticket and this was the house Mama dreamed up in the storiesshe told us before we went to bed.
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