Winter

Winter was turning out to be a very busy season for Becca; from mural painting to teaching health classes to long walks through the desert and the fields, she found herself content to be continuing her projects. The close of her service was nearing now but the call of home was still distant enough to be ignored most days. Though there were the occasional moment where she looked around and wondered what she would miss most about her South American home.

It was also in these moments that she thought of how very much things had changed and advanced in her community. Once a small town without running water or functioning secondary school, Cruz del Medano now not only had a water system but also a brand new school big enough to hold classes for all the kids in the morning, leaving time for extracurriculars. She saw her students change from little kids to young adults, growing taller and looking less like babies every day. Could it really be that she’d been here nearly two years?

A question had become commonplace in conversations with Becca’s friends and family in Morrope: are you really leaving in November? Can’t you stay a little longer? It broke her heart every time. And every time she thought she’s somehow gained a second home, a second nation. Now should would go home in November only to miss her home in Peru. And how she would miss it.