When I was 11, I went on a mission trip to the border of Mexico. When I got back, I wrote this story in Spanish. As I prepare to go to Honduras, I think about the story I wrote about a little girl who came to the United States from Guatemala, a sister country to Honduras.

Below is an auto-generated translation of the video to English that I DID NOT write.

**Reflections on a Hopeful Journey: The Story of Valeria**

In the heart of Guatemala, nestled in the vibrant neighborhood of La Vía Nueva, lived a girl named Valeria with her loving parents. Their little home held joy, despite the whispers of poverty that surrounded them. From her window, she could gaze at the majestic mountains that cradled their city, a daily reminder of the beauty of her homeland. Yet, the shadows of danger loomed large; La Vía Nueva was rife with gang violence, and the fear of a life marred by bloodshed pushed families like hers to consider a daunting mission trip—an emigration to the United States.

One fateful day, as Valeria walked through her neighborhood, she encountered a harrowing moment. A man from a gang seized her and whisked her away, intending to exploit her. When she came to, she found herself in a foreign land—Mexico. The city was a kaleidoscope of colors, its buildings radiating vibrancy, but Valeria's heart was heavy with confusion and fear. Alone in an abandoned car, she felt the weight of her solitude as she dreamt of reuniting with her parents, Teresa and Carlos, who sought the same American dream.

Determined to find her way to the United States, Valeria embarked on a perilous journey across the desert. As night fell, she made a small fire for warmth, enveloped by a sky filled with stars that sparkled like hope itself. In that moment of isolation, she profoundly encountered God, feeling the true essence of her faith journey take shape amid the vastness of the universe.

Upon finally crossing the border into the United States, exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she collapsed on the street. When Valeria opened her eyes again, she found herself in a hospital, cared for by a compassionate doctor. With gentle inquiries, the doctor sought to understand Valeria’s situation, asking about her age and her family. Though she couldn’t remember all the details, Valeria’s heart swelled with hope as she uttered her parents' names: Teresa and Carlos González.

Through a network of kindness, the doctor reached out to an organization dedicated to helping immigrants. They worked tirelessly to reunite Valeria with her family, and in a moment filled with joy, she was enveloped in her mother's embrace once again. Together, they stepped into a new chapter of their lives in a land that promised safety and a fresh start, far from the violence they had known.

This story, penned when I was just eleven, reflects the spirit of hope that resides in many immigrant families. While some elements are drawn from my imagination, they echo the stark realities faced by those who journey from fear to freedom. Each family has their own tale, and many seek refuge from dangerous environments, just like Valeria and her parents did.

Today, as I reflect on this narrative, I recognize the ongoing struggles many face. The current climate may seem daunting, with headlines that evoke fear and division. Yet, I believe in the power of community—a faith-filled community that opens its doors wide to those seeking safety and peace. We can extend a hand to immigrants, inviting them into our hearts, sharing the joy of Christ, and fostering a space where they can thrive.

As I share this story, I hope it resonates with you, illuminating the journey of countless families who seek a better life. We can choose to be beacons of hope, standing together in faith and compassion, creating a world where every person can find solace and belonging.

Thank you for journeying with me through this reflection. I hope it inspires you as much as it has inspired me. Until next time, may we all carry forward the light of hope in our hearts.