When love is spelled c-a-b-a-l-l-i-t-o

So the first week-long American team was here this past week, and it was a blast. Most of them didn't know it, but it was also my first time on a mission trip here. I had never before experienced VBS or film ministry (where we show Christian films in a migrant camp), so I was as excited or more so than they were. And this week did not disappoint.

Monday night we went to Camp Vergel for film ministry. We pulled in with five big 15 passenger vans, and the kids in the park came running. They jumped up onto benches yelling "Caballito! Caballito!", which means piggy back ride. So we packed them around on our backs, one right after the other. It was crazy and chaotic, but the single best moment in my life. I had been so limited by my inability to speak the language for the past few weeks, it was nice to have a way to minister that didn't require words. So I let child after child climb up and raced the other Americans with kids on their backs. We spun and danced and sang and jumped and chased and it was awesome. And then we all settled down on the ground, pulled a few kids into our laps, and watched VeggieTales.

During the film, I sat with a little boy named Alejandro and his two sisters. The girls just kind of sat there, smiling. But Alejandro -- oh my goodness. I let him sit on my lap with his little sister, but that wasn't enough for him. So he wrapped his arm around my neck and pressed his cheek against mine. And I died inside. And as my tears wet the top of his hoodie, I kissed his little head and prayed that God would never let me forget that feeling. That feeling that called out a commitment to do whatever it takes to love, protect, and care for little Alejandros all over the world. If that means living in Mexico or Africa or Kentucky, I didn't care. If it means going without hot showers or Nutella or friends or family, I didn't care. And I hope I never do.

As I hugged Alejandro goodbye, neither of us wanted to let go. So a little barefoot Mexican boy and a blonde-haired Kentucky girl held each other. Words were unnecessary. And I left my heart in a migrant camp in Baja, Mexico.