I stare at the jungle trail and wonder what lies ahead. I’ve seen other schools and know what to expect but this is different. This is the real jungle. How different life must be than what I am accustomed to, maybe even what the kids in town are used to.
The trail is wet and green and the air is thick with vapor. My partners and I come across a series of bulls and the trail is only wide enough for either the bull or us to pass. We decide since we are more agile than the bull on the trail to climb up off the trail and let the bull pass. The plan works and we continue onward with our journey. As the rain showers continue on and off during our hike the trail becomes more draining as it turns to thick deep mud. The raincoats have been pulled over our backpacks to ensure the mission is completed without delivering wet books. How embarrassing would that be?
Up and down the trail goes and we can now see the valley of green jungle with small waterfalls splashing down the side of mountains in far view across from us. The beauty of the jungle can’t be described through words or pictures. The skies are misty and we are now walking through the clouds and the air seems thicker than before. Deeper breathes are needed to keep our legs moving and I can feel the water sliding down my legs to my feet. My toes feel sandy with wet mud in and out through my trekking shoes.
After two hours of hiking the clouds move past the mountain trail and we can finally see what is up ahead. I can see corn stalks high reaching the sky. Beyond in the distant I see boys running through a muddy field kicking a soccer ball. The mud, the rain, and the jungle are not match for the boy’s passion for the game. They kick the ball around to each other while wearing sun faded red to pink baseball caps and rain boots. As we reach the school the boys run to the class room and we are greeted with amazing smiles as if they knew our purpose. We reach for our backpacks and pull the dry children’s books that have journeyed from the states, the wet jungle, and into this classroom of children. The smiles grow bigger and the kids are trying their best to control their excitement. We hand the books out and the kids immediately know what to do with them. They were ferocious readers and tore into the books like a lion feasting on its prey. It only took minutes for some of the children to finish reading the book that had come so far. The children were then asked to describe the book they had just consumed with their mind. As if reading it again they described each of their books almost word for word. Now it was us who were smiling and trying our best to contain our excitement. I’ve never met Kay Robb the founder of Books For A Better World but whatever her feeling was that day when she envisioned the idea of bringing children’s books to poverty stricken schools I think it was that moment we experienced that she had in mind.
Still numb from the experience I had just been a part of we journeyed back through the trail. Racing step for step trying to beat the darkness that would soon fall on the jungle I was still thinking of the children and the teacher. An amazing man who asks for no praise, he walks this trail daily to teach these children we were blessed to meet. Still fresh in my mind was the children disappearing into the jungle to their homes with the new books they had received. I couldn’t help thinking about the experience and how it touched me even for a brief period of my life. The smiles, the little hands holding the books tight against their bodies, the teacher’s passion for his students. These are the memories I will never forget and keep in my soul until the next journey and smile I encounter while delivering books for a better world. 
-Dax Ramirez, Volunteer
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