The Best View in the World

Mateo did not want to spend his summer on a farm. He was sixteen, and he wanted to stay in the city with his friends. But his mother sent him to help his Aunt Rosa, who grew peaches on a hillside above a quiet green valley.

When he arrived, he was not happy. The farm was small and old. There was no internet, the work started at five in the morning, and his back hurt after the first day.

“Farming is hard,” Aunt Rosa said, when she saw his tired face. “But you will get used to it. Give it a week.”

For the first few days, Mateo only counted the hours. He picked the fruit, he carried the boxes, and he said very little. But slowly, something changed. He learned the names of the trees. He learned when to pick a peach and when to wait. When the sun came up over the valley each morning, he began to stop and look at the view.

One afternoon, a small bus stopped at the gate. A group of tourists climbed out with cameras. Aunt Rosa explained that she gave a short tour of the farm twice a week.

“Tourism keeps us alive,” she told Mateo quietly. “The peaches are not enough anymore. People pay to walk in the trees and taste the fruit. You will give the tour today.”

Mateo was nervous, but he tried. He showed the visitors the old trees and the new ones. He told them how the family had farmed this hillside for a hundred years. When one woman asked about the view, he turned and looked at the valley, green and gold in the afternoon light.

“It’s the best view in the world,” he said, and he was surprised to find that he meant it.

By the end of the summer, Mateo did not want to leave. On his last morning, he stood at the top of the hill and looked down at the farm one more time.

“You’ll come back next year?” Aunt Rosa asked.

“I think I will,” he said. And he did.