A Christmas Journey

*Translated from Spanish*

Few traditions around the world have as much impact as Christmas. Every country, and even every family, has its own way of celebrating. Here in Peru, we celebrate the arrival of the baby Jesus, a symbol of tenderness and hope in the face of a reality that is often painful. On our most recent trip, we learned a great deal about inequality, but even more about hope.

The plan was simple: travel from Lima to Ayacucho with a group of ten people who carried the most valuable gift of all in their hearts, the chance to make seven chocolatadas a reality in vulnerable communities across Huancavelica and Huancayo. The surprises weren’t limited to the breathtaking landscapes we encountered. Each day brought news that filled us with hope: “Two more volunteers are joining us from Lima tomorrow,” “Seven more will arrive on Saturday,” “This Friday, five new volunteers are coming to help.” With every announcement, the love that united us grew.

Not everything was joyful. It was heartbreaking to be reminded that, even in 2025, there are Peruvian communities still living in the shadows of poverty, where the basic resources needed for a dignified life remain unfulfilled government promises. Places where a child must walk for hours to reach school; where there is only one health post, often without medical professionals; where the cold seeps not only through the adobe walls of homes, but into dreams of a different future.

Seeing these conditions firsthand was devastating, made even harder by the knowledge that we would eventually return to warm, safe places, while for them, this was the only reality they knew.

I could write endlessly about the many needs we witnessed, but it is also important to say this: despite the intense cold, the hearts we encountered were the warmest I have ever known. Every word of thanks after tasting panettone, every smile that came with a long-awaited gift, found its way into the hearts of volunteers who were already overflowing with joy.

One moment that marked my heart was with a child from the Star Kids program in the community of Sachaorcco, Huancavelica, Peru. I offered to help him put on the rain boots we had brought as a gift, never imagining the condition he was in. Surprised, he could barely whisper a shy “thank you.” But when I looked down to remove his shoes, my shock deepened. The only thing separating his bare feet from the ground was an insole, almost completely detached from the leather of his shoe.

Trying to hide the indignation I felt, I placed his old shoes in a bag and handed him the new boots, asking only if he liked them. With an excited smile, he said yes and added that now he could spend more time accompanying his mother while she worked in the fields.

As I helped him put on the rain boots, I knew we weren’t just giving him a pair of shoes. We were giving him the chance to walk farther, to accompany his mother without fear of the cold, and most of all, to remind him that despite the hardships, he is not alone—that there are people who see him and care.

These experiences left me with a deep reflection on inequality, but also with a powerful reminder: real change, even when it seems small, truly matters. It is hopeful to know that we can make a meaningful difference. Today more than ever, we are called to be part of that change, to walk alongside those who need it most, because in the end, it all begins with each of us.