I remember the moment I left my country. I was 14 years old, living in Honduras. I was with my little sister, who was 12, and together we faced many challenges and experiences — some beautiful, but mostly difficult — as we made our way to the border to turn ourselves in to immigration. I will never forget that day, because it was an incredibly difficult decision for two kids as young as us. We had to leave our entire lives behind, but we did it for a better one. When we received the news that we were going to have to emigrate from Honduras to the United States — alone, just the two of us, from one moment to the next — it hit us hard. We had to prepare quickly, gathering only the most basic and essential things for what was going to be a very long and difficult trip. It was a secret from almost everyone. Even my father never found out we had left  ...