I am eight years old, and I sit in the backseat of the car with my sister, oblivious to why I'm here. It's three o'clock in the morning, and in the craziness of late night delayed flights we didn't get a chance to have dinner, so my parents are surveying the empty orange lighted streets, trying to find a Burger King. I stare out the window, amazed at the wide streets and my flat surroundings: how in the world are there no mountains here!?

When we finally find one, my sister and I start to play with the toys that came with our kid's meals, laughing. Meanwhile, my parents, tired and stressed, looked for the place which would become our home for three weeks: Joe DiMaggio Children's Hospital in Hollywood, Florida.

A few days later, at eight years old, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis. Back at home, doctors had told my mom it was leukemia. Believe it or not, this is a common misdiagnosis for thyroid disease. At this point, we had no idea what had caused me to stop growing, get those mysterious bruises in my back, and that ceaseless exhaustion that had kept me in bed for three months.

The next day, we started what would be three long weeks of doctor appointments and daily visits to the loud and wide hospital's cafeteria. Bouncing around from place to place going from bone scans, to eye doctors, to tomographies and blood tests, I still had no idea what was going on. All I knew as I stared at the big, white hospital machines was that I was sick, but not so much that I wouldn't be ok. I was scared, but I knew I was being taken care of.

But this three-week trip to America did more than just help me find a diagnosis that would force my family to visit Florida every year until the disease was gone. It was here that I started to fall in love with America. It was not only a sense of brightness, hope, gratefulness, and opportunities that drew me to the country: it was also a special feeling I hadn't felt anywhere else: freedom. Wonderful, magical freedom.

And now, almost eleven years later I'm back in America, studying in college and it's a dream come true. I've found very special friends that I feel I've known for the longest time, even though I grew up thousands of miles away from them. Throughout the years, I've found so many familiar places and faces that I'm sure will always be there for me, whether it is in Florida, Massachusetts, New Hampshire or Virginia. I've found a richness of thought and innovative ideas that have changed and challenged my thinking. Most importantly, I've found empowerment, and I know I will someday be able to give back to what I now consider my second home.

I love being in America. Even though I don't technically live here, being here as a student is a wonderful, exciting adventure. Not that I don't love the country I grew up in, Honduras, but I'm extremely grateful to have the opportunity to experience all that this great country has to offer and join in the very human search for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.