This morning, it was hard for me to wake up, because I had stayed up late playing games and didn’t sleep much, but if I had only known what God had in store for me today, I would have bolted out of bed. We jumped in our two vans as usual and headed to Pastor Jorge’s church in preparation for a day of games, music, and Vacation Bible School activities for more than a hundred children. Pastor Jorge introduced us to the youth group and prayed over our day. Many of the children had already arrived, but instead of immediately playing with them, a bunch of us went to the “mercado” or market, to invite children to spend the day with us. Or so we thought. After greeting a woman at her stand, Mario began telling her that these students traveled all the way from the US, during their summer vacation, to visit and share a special message with her. With that, he asked one of us to share our testimony and relationship with Jesus. Dina was with us to translate from English to Spanish, and soon Mario indicated to us that she wanted us to pray a salvation prayer with her. We traveled from stand to stand, praying with the owners. At one stand, Mario introduced us, and then asked me to share my testimony and pray with the five women at that stand. I felt incredibly nervous, because I could not remember ever sharing something so personal with people I did not know, and especially to those who spoke a different language! But the Holy Spirit gave me the words to say, and afterward I felt so moved that I felt my eyes welling up. Even if the people we shared with did not truly accept Jesus that day, at least the seeds of the Gospel were planted. After returning from the market, a little girl grabbed my hand, saying, “como te llamas?” And I replied, “Laura.” From the moment on, she scarcely let go of my hand. We communicated in what little Spanish I could understand, and she was always patient with me, and laughed as it took me about twenty tries to pronounce the word for bubble. Whenever I went away to complete another task, I looked back to see her shyly smiling at me. When we watched the volleyball and soccer games, I looked down to see our hands, white and brown skin intertwined, and realized a hint of the depth of God’s love, breaking through all cultural and racial barriers. The love nine-year-old Stephanie, as well as many of the other children, showed me, was unlike any I had ever experienced before. I saw God today, and I was changed.