One of the hardest parts of our trip to Nicaragua was leaving the children behind. Victor was a very special little boy who exemplified the happiness and heartbreaks we experienced during our stay:
“His dark brown head appeared from out of nowhere as the small pickup truck slowly lumbered up the rocky Nicaraguan road. Clad in bright yellow athletic shorts and a royal blue soccer jersey, he looked like many 9-year-old boys at my son’s Californian elementary school.
He shyly called “hola” as he hopped into the back of the truck. It was then I noticed his feet – bare, broad, and dirty. While he climbed aboard, I glanced at the muddy, rocky trail he had appeared out of and wondered where he had awakened that morning. ..”