My Mission Trip to the Dominican Republic

It was a hot, searing day as the sun beat down on my skin. The lush green palm trees provided me shade as I sat and observed my surroundings. Children, barefoot and dirty, wearing tattered and stained clothes were running around laughing and playing. Their joyous giggles put a smile on my face and warmed my heart as I watched them.

It was my first time in the Dominican Republic, away from my parents and traveling alone. It was also my first mission trip and I loved every minute of it. As I sat and looked around the village of slums and shacks, I saw that the people were so giving and friendly. They had next to nothing, and yet they were still volunteering to give more.

I met a young girl who was thirteen years of age, sweet and beautiful, and a local of Santo Domingo. All she wanted was to be loved, and of course, to learn English. As I tried to translate most of what she spoke to me, we were able to have the first of our small conversations that would continue throughout my visit in her country. Her family was poor and her father cleaned the building in which I stayed. She had a precious little brother who was only three and her mother was a housewife. Even though I remember her appearance and personality, I don’t quite remember her name anymore. I saw this girl and her family every day for a week and enjoyed seeing their big eyes smile.

During the day I played ball and drew pictures in the dirt with her and her friends. We got dirty and grimy, sweaty and smelly, but none of us cared. I have never cared less about what I looked like than when I was with her. It just didn’t matter. She barely had any clothes, shoes, or even all her necessities, and still she was beautiful. I learned local games and rhymes ...

... middle of paper ...

...ever taking it off, and then one day I decided it was time to remove it. My eyes watered when I took it off. Although I wanted to remove it, I was sad because I felt as if I was removing her from a part of my life.

If I have the chance to return to Santo Domingo next summer, I hope to visit her. We haven’t spoken since the summer of 2010 but I still think of her often. I wonder how she is doing and find myself wondering if she has made bracelets for other girls. That bracelet will always be a treasure to me and a reminder of that moment when she gave me so much of herself. It truly has had a lasting effect on me. Vivid memories of her and that wonderful trip to Santo Domingo appear in my mind each time I look at it. A simple strand of beads can be one of the most precious gifts you’ve ever received when those beads join together to form a bracelet of love.