Point Me to Tomorrow by Veronica Chambers

trying to say is that we are really proud of you. You’ve not only built a thriving business; you’ve helped us all see an old tradition with new eyes. That’s really special. That takes vision.”
    Alicia stood up and hugged each of her parents. She didn’t say anything, because it was one of those moments when she knew that they understood exactly how she felt. As the saying went, sin palabras . There were simply no words.

THE FOLLOWING Saturday morning, Alicia stood on the beach, shivering in her wet suit. When Mr. Stevens had mentioned his surfing class, he hadn’t said anything about being encased in rubber and on the beach at six A.M. As she looked around at the group of men and women twice her age, she wondered how she’d let her girls off the hook so easily. Jamie was traveling to see Dash compete in a tournament in Orlando, and Carmen had flat-out not wanted to go.
    â€œI like surf-inspired fashion,” Carmen had said. “Like the cool T’s and cute dresses designers like Cynthia Rowley have been doing. I like listening to surf-inspired ska, and I love old nineteen-fifties surfing movies. What I don’t like—and can’t see happening—is me, trying to stand on a board in freezing cold water while said board knocks me upside the head every time I fall off it.”
    Wow , Alicia remembered thinking. Way to sell it, Carmen. Now she wondered if her friend hadn’t been absolutamente y completamente right. It was chilly, it was still a little dark, and the ocean did not look either fun or inviting.
    Mr. Stevens, however, didn’t seem to mind the cold or the hour. “Good morning!” he bellowed as he jogged happily toward the sullen-looking group, some of whom were hopping from one foot to the other in an attempt to stay warm. “Welcome to Surfing the New Economy! You are a very special group of people, and not just because you’re all dressed in these neoprene penguin suits! You are all business owners. Why don’t you each go ahead and introduce yourselves?”
    There were eight people in the group; Alicia was the youngest by far.
    A tall guy with red hair, who looked about her father’s age, stepped forward confidently and said, “Hi, I’m Dave, of Dave’s Honey Wagons. We rent trailers to celebrities who are shooting in Miami—movies, TV commercials, music videos—you name it.”
    Alicia was impressed and immediately began thinking about how she could incorporate trailers used by real movie stars into a quinceañera theme.
    Next, a woman with dark brown shoulder-length hair and deep dimples smiled at the group and said, “I’m, Maya, the owner of Buscar, a new age bookshop and café in West Park.” She clasped her hands together and did a little bow. “Namaste,” she told the group.
    The rest had equally interesting pursuits—from a cupcake shop to a pharmacy that had been the family business for over a hundred years.
    When it was Alicia’s turn, she found that she wasn’t as cold as she had been when she had first arrived. The sun was shining more brightly, and she no longer felt so shy.
    â€œ Hola , everybody,” she said, waving at the small group. “I’m Alicia, and I’m the cofounder of Amigas Inc., a full-service quinceañera planning business.”
    Everyone seemed surprised that someone as young as Alicia could have her own business.
    â€œExcuse me,” a woman named Terri, who owned a Pilates studio, said, “but would it be rude for me to ask your age?”
    Alicia smiled. “Not at all. I’m seventeen.”
    â€œAnd how long have you had this business?” Dave wondered.
    â€œFor two years,” Alicia replied.
    â€œImpressive!” Dave said brightly.
    â€œHave you ever thought of taking your quince business national?” asked Lily, who owned the cupcake shop. “My sister lives in San Antonio, and I know they