Have you ever heard the old saying, “home is where the heart is?” Well if that’s true, then my home is 3000 miles away in a foreign country. My home speaks a language that I was not taught until I was 16. My home also has a culture that I never dreamed of experiencing. My home is the place where God led me. My home is Peru.

When I was 16, I was blessed with the chance to go to Peru on a mission trip. I was anxious, scared, and beyond excited. I didn’t know what to expect, how to act, or if I would even like it over there. I had taken a year of Spanish at my high school, but I was pretty sure I would know zero of what people were saying. My Spanish teacher was also the leader of the trip so the pressure was on not to drop the ball too much in conversation. Luckily when I got there, everyone was welcoming and didn’t laugh to much when I butchered sentences.

Stepping off of the plane and into the airport was like another world. The first thing I saw was a huge sign that said, "Bienvenido al Peru", or Welcome to Peru! We met the Peruvians who were picking us up at the airport. There were excited hugs and greetings to welcome us in. Little did I know that the loving couple who welcomed us would become my adopted parents of Peru in just two short weeks.

Throughout this trip we traveled the Andes, going to different villages to help spread the word of God and give medical help. Even though we were there to help them, I will never forget how much they helped me. Visiting these people, listening to them tell their story, and trying my best to live their way for as long as we were there, it opened my eyes to a completely different way of life. Some of these villages were so poor, yet had so much love and affection to offer. We could give them some ibuprofen, and they acted like we cured cancer. I always knew I was blessed to live in America and live how I live, but I never understood how blessed I was and am until I witnessed this.

Once again when I was 18, this past summer, I went to Peru on another mission trip. We went through the same mission compound over there so I was able to see all of the people who had become family to me. The second trip almost didn’t happen because I wasn’t raising nearly as much money as I had the first time. I was nervous, stressed, and crying a lot because I didn’t think I would be able to go. That time period was definitely a test of faith and I felt like I was failing. About three days before the trip, the final money came in and I felt like the world had been lifted off of my shoulders. That experience only confirmed that I need to quit stressing and put my faith in God. The second trip to Peru made my love for the country that much stronger. It also made leaving Peru almost impossible. Leading up to the days before coming home, I wished I could just throw my passport out the window, and never be able to leave. Of course, that would have been a terrible idea and my family in the States would not have liked that. My motto at the end of my first trip was, “It’s not a goodbye, only a see you later.” I have continued this and plan to go back to soon when the Lord shows me its time.

Going to Peru opened my eyes and heart to how the rest of this world lives. It taught me compassion and understanding. It made be strive to be a better person and appreciate my life every single day. I’m thankful for every single person I met in Peru because they helped shape me into the person I am today. I’m extremely thankful for my church who helped me get to Peru emotionally and financially, but most of all, I’m thankful to God. Without Him, Peru was just another country on the map. Now, it is Home.