After the last snowflake melts, after the first raindrops fall from the awakening skies, after the thawing soil is tilled for planting, when the vernal sun breaks over the eastern horizon, a certain field of sunflowers begins its annual bloom, and Dolores begins watching from the farmhouse next door to see which sunflower will reach maturity first each year—it is that flower upon whose stem she will tie her daughter’s white hair ribbon, the one she wore on her quinceañera. 

It is no longer Do...