Kids are back to school. And I remember the first day of school when my parents, my 11-year-old brother and I moved to the U.S. My 12-year-old heart anguished because I knew no English, no ESL existed, no one spoke Spanish, had no friends and I found myself in a strange, cruel world.
But one day, a girl with curly brown hair and great big green eyes motioned me to follow her. Once in the cafeteria, she patted the seat beside her. I sat and smiled for the first time. But God was the one who smiled at me through that little girl.
From then on, I vowed I’d always be reaching out to anyone who seems lonely, lost and alone.