The Girl in the Mirror

Arriving in Coban, felt like an out of body experience… just a few months ago it was nothing more than a picture painted in my mind. An idea, and a dream. But now, it has transformed into something real— something that I was able to touch, and feel. I ran my fingers across the mural on the wall, taking in its vibrant colors and the deep symbolism behind each detail. I traced the heart-shaped hole in the tree where flowers bloomed. I felt the warmth of the sun and the gentle kiss of the rain on my skin.

The experience went far beyond the physical. I felt the weight of the pain carried by each patient who entered our room—their fears, their uncertainties. But I also felt the waves of relief when doctors reassured them they would be okay. I felt the joy, the gratitude, and the love that poured out through simple gestures: a prayer, a smile, a thank you, a hug.

I met some of the most incredible human beings—people with big dreams and goals. One moment that stays with me happened during a break, when I was outside drawing with a few sweet children. A five-year-old girl named Luna looked up at me and said, “I want to learn how to read.” I told her, “Very soon, they’ll teach you in school, and you’ll be a great reader.” But she responded, “I want to learn now. I want to be able to read books.”

Her eagerness moved me. So, right there, we turned our drawings into a mini reading lesson. We went through the alphabet, practiced sounds, and read a few simple words—one of them being her name. Her face lit up with joy. Then she asked me, “Next time you come, can you bring books for me to read?” At first, I didn’t know what to say—I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back. But looking into her bright eyes, I found myself saying, “Of course I will.” And in that moment, I realized: this wasn’t goodbye. It was “until we meet again.”

Throughout these last couple of years I have been on a mission to find myself— to find what I am called to do. There were countless moments where I have doubted myself, wondering if I am meant to become a nurse. Countless nights of prayer asking for guidance. Looking at the reflection on the mirror was all a blur, I couldn’t recognize who the person that was staring back at me was. 

But in Coban, something changed. I saw myself grow with each patient I helped, with each lesson I learned from the doctors and nurses around me. This is what I’m meant to do. This is my calling. I want to be the one who puts the “care” in healthcare. I want to spread love, hope, and healing to those around me. 

Now, when I look at myself in the mirror, the reflection isn’t blurry, there’s no confusion. I see the person I am meant to be. 

-Brisa Celeste Avila