Run With Purpose
Miami Country Day School
During Thanksgiving Break, I traveled to Nuevo Paraíso, an orphanage in Honduras, expecting to help build a library, spend time with children, and make a small difference. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
From the moment I arrived, I was met with something extraordinary - pure love. The children, despite having so little, welcomed me with wide smiles, laughter, and open arms. They raced beside me, held my hand, and called me amigo as if I had always belonged there. Their joy was boundless, their kindness overwhelming.
But as I explored the community, my curiosity led me to Clinica Santa Rosa de Lima, the only medical clinic for miles. I had always been fascinated by neurology, and I wanted to see how they cared for the children and families here. What I found was not just a clinic - but a place that relies on hope, without the equipment to act.
This small clinic is the only medical facility within a two-hour radius. The doctors and nurses work tirelessly, but their wages, medical procedures, and even the most basic supplies rely solely on donations. Specialized doctors - neurologists, dentists, surgeons - visit only twice a month. And then, the most heartbreaking revelation:
At the back of the clinic, we stepped into a dimly lit room with flickering lights and cracked floors. And there, the doctors told us the unthinkable - the operating room hasn’t been used in over ten years. I stood frozen. What happens to children who need emergency surgery? I asked, dreading the answer. “They drive two hours away,” they told me, “and hope they survive.”
Hope. That was all they had.
The next day, I couldn’t walk away. I refused to leave without knowing more. I spent hours shadowing doctors, watching them work with incredible skill, doing everything they could with the few supplies they had. I saw their hands shake with exhaustion, their brows furrow in frustration - but never once did they stop. Their compassion never wavered.
And then, she walked in.
A five-year-old girl, her small body trembling. She needed help. Desperately. But the clinic couldn’t treat her. They lacked the necessary equipment.
I watched as they told her family that they had no choice - hey had to drive two hours to the next hospital and pray she made it in time.
I never found out what happened to that little girl. I never learned if she survived the journey.
But what I do know is that I left that clinic with a fire inside me - a relentless, burning urgency to do something. To help. To fight for the children who should never have to wonder if they’ll live simply because they were born in a place without resources.
When I returned to Miami, I couldn't shake the images from my mind. The children’s faces. The doctors’ helplessness. The little girl.
So I reached out to Dr. Javier Flores, the director of Clinica Santa Rosa de Lima, and together, we built a plan to put the clinic back on the path to saving lives.
But we can’t do this alone.
We are raising funds to purchase the surgical equipment the clinic desperately needs - incubators, anesthesia masks, rolling hospital beds - everything necessary to finally reopen the operating room after a decade of silence.
Imagine what that means. Imagine a mother holding her sick child, knowing that this time, she doesn’t have to drive two hours praying for a miracle - because the help she needs is right here.
Imagine the lives we can save.
Imagine the hope we can restore.
Now, be part of that change.
Every dollar, every donation, every moment spent caring matters - because it means one less child has to suffer. It means hope. It means life.
Let’s give these children the future they deserve.
Donate today. Because hope should never be two hours away.
Fisher-Insland.com @2025
email: alana@bigdreamscf.org