After all the excitement of the previous months, life slowly began to settle back into its familiar rhythm. And that rhythm often looked like this: if it’s Saturday, we’re heading to Santo Domingo to visit the children. Every visit brings joy. There is something so heartwarming about seeing them again. If I could, I think I would bring them every sweet in the world.
Truthfully, the experience begins long before we arrive in the village.
Preparing for these visits has become a little tradition of its own for my husband and me. We go from store to store looking for candy and small treats. Since our budget is limited, we always try to make the most of every peso, carefully comparing prices and calculating how many children we can reach with what we have. We spend quite a bit of time doing the math, planning, and imagining the little gift bags before we’ve even bought everything. Wherever we go, we are always keeping an eye out for something that might bring a smile to a child’s face or be useful to one of the families during our next visit.
Once everything has been gathered, another small ritual begins. We take out the bags and fill them with all the treats we’ve collected. The box of candy is ready, the hygiene wipes for the mothers with babies are set aside, and any additional donations from generous supporters are packed as well. Ready for Santo Domingo.
Sometimes our visits are simple. We arrive, hand out the treats, spend a little time with the community, and then head back to Mérida.
But sometimes something extra happens.
This was one of those days.
During the very first birthday celebration we attended in the village, one thing had stayed in my mind: the delicious tostadas that were served. I had been so impressed that I asked the hostess if she would one day show me how they were made. This visit was finally the day.
After handing out the candy, we headed off for what I jokingly called a cooking lesson. The recipe itself is wonderfully simple. Take tortillas, cut each one into four pieces, and fry them in hot oil until they become crispy and golden.
But there was one important difference. These tostadas weren’t being made on a kitchen stove. They were being cooked outside, over an open fire in the family yard. When you look at the ingredients and the process, there is nothing complicated about them. Yet somehow they taste extraordinary. Perhaps because the secret ingredient isn’t in the recipe at all.
Perhaps the best flavors come from food prepared with heart, generosity, and love.
We are not a foundation.
We are not an NGO.
We are simply two people who saw poverty and felt a quiet certainty: we needed to do something — even if it was small. Even if it only brings a few smiles to a few children. Some people have already joined us, once or more than once.
And if anyone feels called to join – in any way, at any time – we would be honored.
If you’d like to support in a practical way, or simply learn more, you’ll find details on the Support page.
If you’d like to reach out personally, feel free to contact us.
Creciendo juntos, floreciendo juntos.
