Maria took her son's hand. "You are my last flower, Jose. My last beautiful flower. I will not see my little bouquet again. I love you my son." She closed her eyes. Traces of her smile remained on the waxen, ashen mask of her former beautiful face. Jose sat for several minutes holding his mother's hand. Tears formed in his eyes as he realized she may have spoken her last words. Twelve-year-old Jose Lozano worked the fields like a man. When his mother dies, a new door opens for him. Will his horizons expand beyond the simple life of a common laborer? Should he dare to hope for a better life? Is education simply a dream beyond his reach? Read The Last Flower and find what Jose found. Sometimes dreams do come true.