So at the last minute I decided to go to Guatemala with BuildaBridge International which is an innovative organization that works in the toughest parts of the world bringing healing and hope to youth through the arts. I volunteer with them in Philadelphia so when I heard they were going to be in Guatemala doing an arts camp for a week, I knew I had to be there. We worked in an slum community called La Limonada ( the Lemonade). I taught dance with another teacher, my friend Gina, to children ages 4-10.

This may sound simple and easy, but in no sense of the word was it easy. The sounds, smells, sights and touch that we received were unforgettable. The neighborhood is invisible to the rest of the country. Its in a big mountain ditch with cement houses from the very top to the bottom. In the middle of mountain ditch, is a small sewer river. All the communities pluming and garbage flows into the small river of about more than 11,000 people. The smell is so strong, as soon as you step out of the car it greets you as if you were cooking fish in your house with all the windows closed on a hot summer day.

The most of the kids in our classes are street children who have barley nothing. One boy named Rony didn’t want to take off his shoes for dance class because his shoes weren’t even worth to be called shoes anymore. His heel was in the shoe, but his toes were touching the ground. Another little boy named Samuel had 4 brothers and his mom in his one bedroom house. Four slept on the bed and two on the floor and the mom is 7 months pregnant.

One day a girl name Yali age 5 was screaming at he top of her lungs because she didn’t want to come in the classroom because she didn’t want to work with the Gringos (gringos is a name for North Americans) Some of the kids parents tell them that Gringos will take them away from their families and put them up for adoption.

But at the end of the week we had a recital for the kids to present their play, painting, sculptures and dance piece. It was beautiful to see the smiles on the parents face and the pride the children had to show of what they made. I thank God I was able to exchange someone’s ashes of sadness for oil of joy, even if it was for a week.

For Thanksgiving Day, we had a regular Thanksgiving Day diner at the house of another one of the North Americans we were working with.

It was different not being with my own family and friends for the hoilday and I missed them, but it was comforting knowing that where I was, I was loved.

This thanksgiving I was thankful for the free gift of a smile that cost nothing and yet has the significant power to change someone’s life.