A prominent image will never leave the back of my mind, a smile that has changed me as a person forever and has confirmed my passion for helping others. Colima, Mexico was an escape from the constant fighting, yelling, and slamming of doors at home, a place where I could help the members of Projects Abroad conserve the endangered species of sea turtles that swam amongst the coastline of Tecoman, Mexico. Coming from a wealthy town in the United States, I was astounded by the way that the people of Tecoman lived. Each citizen seemed to be happy with the smallest of things, though they had little to live on. Tecoman was a place that had given me hope. Every weekend, the other five volunteers and I would travel twenty miles to the center of Tecoman to buy a satisfying dinner, one that would not be soaked by the salty water that would wash up at night into the kitchen located on the beach near our campsite. Sitting on the splintered bench waiting for my warm plate of pasta and vegetables, I watched as a young girl and her brother played a rendition of kickball in the middle of the street, occasionally getting yelled at by the cartel guard on the opposite side. The brother, noticeably older and undeniably a lot stronger got progressively more aggressive, pushing his young, malnutritioned sister around and swinging her by her arms. The guard, more agitated than before, ran to the boy and grabbed him by his wrist, yelling in a foreign Spanish dialect. The boy scampered away, leaving his crying sister on the dusty, aged ground.

“Here is your food” attempted the waitress in a heavy Spanish accent, while delivering a paper plate full of pasta surrounded by a kaleidoscopic arrangement of vegetables that I had never seen before. Being the only one on the trip from America, I received strange looks from the Tecoman natives when I looked back at her and said, “Thank you.” One of these looks was from the naïve girl, still lying motionless on the ground by the splintered bench. I waved, but in return I received a look of perplexity. As I began to eat my food I felt a strange presence over my shoulder. The intrigued girl had decided to analyze me. She reached for my glass of water and took a sip. Feeling befuddled by this behavior I motioned for her to sit beside me. I asked her name in Spanish and she responded with “Carmen.” She watched me patiently for a couple of minutes and I asked if she was hungry. She responded with yes, but she had no money for food. I motioned the waitress over for the bill as I scrambled for the pesos in my bag. The van back to the campsite would be leaving soon and told her that I would need a box for the food. As soon as the box came I handed it to Carmen. She took it and just stared at me in astonishment for quite a while and then gave me the widest, illuminated smile, one that I will never forget. This smile had made me not want to return home to the constant and chaotic unrest at my house.

Carmen’s smile has changed my life. I believe I was put on this earth for a reason: to help people. I am a relentless believer that my happiness comes from the joy of others, and I have decided that I refuse to leave this earth without making a substantial change in the lives of others.