I finished packing the last three shirts, part of the uniform of the Catholic missionaries which I was joining on the first week of this spring break. What we do is spread God’s word with your family: going house by house and inviting people to the activities we plan every afternoon, in which the local people have fun but also learn more about Jesus. Today we are leaving to go to Cuatrocienegas, a little Mexican town that is very run-down from what I’ve heard... and who knows if it has internet? I put on the orange bandana around my neck, and the cross necklace that was given to us a week ago; these would be my new accessories to compliment the uniform I was going to have to wear for the next couple of days. I remember the conversation my mom and I had when she gave us the news that we were going on a mission trip again this year…

“Girls, we signed ourselves up to go to another mission this year!” she declared.
“Seriously?” one of my sisters asked, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Yes, and better yet, we are going to another town this time.” my mom added.
“Wait, does that mean that we won’t be with the families we were grouped with last year?” I asked curiously.
“The city is brighter and nicer, and we are going to meet new people. It’s not th–”
“I can’t believe we are going to go to a different place, now it’s not going to be fun!” I interrupted, and left to my room.

I sighed to myself in the car, and daydreamed about all the other places I could be going to right now. There were people actually travelling to exotic locations, while we were taking a 6-hour car trip to a small town that no one knew about. I put my earphones on, “I know this year is going to be different,” I thought, hoping that this mission would turn out better I than expected.

My mom parked her white Sienna and I jolted awake. I got off the car and looked around to see where I stood. We were in a traditional Mexican hotel, the type that is one floor and is painted with vibrant yellows and oranges. It was a scorching hot day, and there was a lot of wind too, carrying dust all over my face and eyes. This was normal here, and I will have to get used to it. There was another hotel like ours across the street where other families were staying, and we walked there to check it out and see who else was going to be part of this mission. My dad noticed how lost I looked, for there were only a few people I recognized: an old tennis friend and some twins that were a year below me. “Don’t worry, you’ll make friends soon,” he assured. I smiled nervously, hoping what he said was true.

Soon after, there was a Palm Sunday procession around Cuatrocienegas. During this time I was able to take a really good look at the town. Even though it was sort of old and had a traditional Mexican style, its colors were beautiful, every house and local was painted pink, yellow, orange, or blue; this was something that was hard to find back at home. The Cathedral that the procession eventually led up to was grand, majestic, and very large on the inside too.  Better yet, it was completely filled with people. The priest explained to us that everybody here was eager to come to church when us missionaries came. Everybody looked so sweet and happy, I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this week won’t be so dreadful after all.

The irritating sound of a bell ringing and a “Wake up everybody, rise and shine!” coming after it woke me up the next morning, as it would for the next six days. After breakfast, we were assigned a neighborhood to start going house by house to invite the people who lived there to our activities and mass in the afternoon. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I covered my face from the blinding sun. Seeing this, my mom immediately took out a hat and sunblock; I groaned and put it on. Our first house was filled with flowers, and just after we knocked, an elderly lady wearing a flowery apron opened the door and invited us in. “Come in, come in. There is a couch right here, you can sit,” she insisted.

The woman and my mom talked a lot about how the community was here, and later we visited the house next door and another long conversation between my mom and the man from that house started, while I studied my feet and rubbed my hands, wondering how long it was until we got back to have lunch. “Mom, how long is it until we go back?” I asked, not really realizing that I had interrupted a conversation.

My mom glared at me, “not now,” she mouthed and continued talking to the man of the house we were in.
All my sisters glared at me, I guess I really did interrupt the conversation. Then I heard the words “kidnap” and “accident” come from the man’s mouth, and I tuned in into the conversation… this man has had to deal with very tough things I couldn’t even imagine. But here he was, smiling and talking about God as if none of that had ever happened.

We visited many other houses, and each of them had their own challenges and stories, but they all had one thing in common: they were positive while resolving their difficulties.

During the afternoon activities, I knew that this was just what these kids needed: some love, caring, and something to do. I noticed that many of them arrived dirty, barefoot, and alone. But an hour later, we were all joking and laughing, and I was truly enjoying myself. The kids got really excited over the activities we did with them; whether it was painting or jumping rope, we had a lot of fun doing anything. While I was picking up, a little girl came up to me and asked me with hopeful eyes: “You are staying here forever right?”

“Not really, we are only going to be here for a week.” I replied sadly, seeing her expectant look.

“Why?” she asked, disappointment evident in her voice.

“Well, I have to go back home, but we will all probably come back next year.” I promised, and continued packing up the materials.

I heard some laughing come from outside and found myself smiling, for what felt like the first time in days. Why was I always in a bad mood anyway? It didn’t make sense that I was the one frowning because I didn’t get to go to a “big trip” while some of these kids could only dream about leaving their little town. I realized that I wasted so much time whining and grumbling, so I came back outside with a bright smile on my face, which I kept for the rest of the trip.
When I layed down in bed every day for that week, an immense feeling of satisfaction filled me. Changing my perspective about being in Cuatrocienegas changed my experience completely. I could enjoy every moment and decide to ignore the little difficulties like the burning sun and the wind that blew dust all over my face. I am so incredibly lucky, there is no point at all in whining about stupid things. Now, I still think about that trip, in which I learned that true happiness isn’t found in luxurious places, but in making others happy, even if it is just for one week.