This story was written from a translated interview we did with a man in Colombia. We hope his story is as much of a blessing to you as it was to us.

In February 2019, Kenny left Venezuela with no idea what the road ahead would look like. He was leaving behind his wife, Luz, and their two young children. His son, Samuel, was only six months old. His daughter, Sofía, was six.

Kenny had spent two years working in a factory in Venezuela, eventually working his way up to supervisor. By most standards, he had a good job and a decent salary, but Venezuela's economy had deteriorated so severely that even what once seemed like a good salary was no longer enough to provide the basics for his family. Food was becoming increasingly difficult to afford, and the money he earned could no longer keep up with the cost of living.

So Kenny made the difficult decision to leave.

His plan was much like that of many Venezuelans during those years. He would go to Colombia, work for a few months, save some money, and return home. Perhaps he could save enough to start a small business and give his family a better future. He never intended to leave Venezuela permanently.

But before he ever reached Pamplona, Kenny learned how different reality could be from the plans we make.

He traveled with his father and brother-in-law, walking for three days into Colombia. They walked through the day and sometimes into the night, their feet aching and their shoes becoming worn and damaged. One evening, as the cold became too much, a stranger allowed them to sleep in a house that was still under construction. Kenny doesn't remember the faces of the people who helped them that night, but he remembers their kindness and still hopes that someday he can find them and say thank you.

Eventually, Kenny and his father reached Pamplona, exhausted and with their legs swollen from the journey. They found a shelter crowded with hundreds of other migrants and were given a place to rest. The following day, they went searching for work.

Kenny did whatever he could find. Some days that meant temporary labor. Other days he helped people find taxis during busy market hours or searched through trash for recyclable materials he could sell. Sometimes the money he earned from recycling was barely enough to eat for a day.

But Kenny wasn't only trying to feed himself.

Back in Venezuela, Luz was caring for their children. Six-month-old Samuel needed formula, which was difficult and expensive to find. Kenny sent home whatever money he could, but one of the hardest parts of being in Colombia wasn't the cold, the uncertainty, or even the lack of work. It was being away from his family.

Whenever Kenny saw a young child, he thought about Samuel. He thought about how small his son was and how much of his life he was missing. There were days when the weight of that separation became too much, and he would simply cry.

Eventually, Kenny began working toward bringing his family to Colombia. When the day finally came, he didn't even have enough money to travel to Cúcuta to meet them. He turned to a friend named José and asked if he could borrow the money. Instead, José offered to pay for the tickets himself.

The family would eventually give José the nickname “Papito” because of the way he cared for them. He became like a father to them in Colombia, always concerned about how they were doing and whether they had what they needed.

For Kenny, the arrival of his family changed everything.

Not long afterward, he began volunteering at a temporary shelter, where he met Bethany King. Eventually, Kenny and his family moved to a shelter in La Laguna, about an hour from Pamplona, and began serving other migrants making journeys much like the one Kenny himself had made.

Then COVID-19 arrived.

The shelter could no longer allow people inside, leaving migrant families and children outside in the cold. For Kenny, now reunited with his own children, watching families struggle outside was especially difficult.

So they found ways to help.

They prepared sandwiches and distributed them throughout town. At night, when the streets were quiet, they sometimes brought people inside to sleep for a few hours before sending them on their way again early in the morning. Sometimes helping meant walking through the rain and cold looking for people who needed food, warmth, or simply somewhere safe to rest.

What had begun as Kenny's search for a way to provide for his own family was slowly becoming something very different.

Over the following years, Kenny continued working with organizations serving migrants in Colombia. When one of those projects eventually came to an end, he once again found himself wondering what would come next.

Then Bethany called.

She asked if Kenny would be interested in working with On The Ground International.

He said yes.

By the time of our interview, Kenny had once again been serving as an OTGI coordinator for about a year and a half, helping oversee three shelters along the migrant route, even having a shelter named after him. At Casa Kenny in Pamplona, migrants receive a place to sleep for the night, hot showers, food, Wi-Fi, a place for children to play, and basic health guidance.

But Kenny believes the work is about more than providing physical necessities.

People need to be heard.

Many of those who arrive at the shelter are carrying the same pain Kenny once carried. They have left behind parents, children, spouses, friends, homes, and entire lives. They may be exhausted from walking for days and uncertain where they will sleep tomorrow. Sometimes what they need most is simply for someone to sit down and listen.

Kenny understands because he has been there.

Today, Colombia has become Kenny's second home, but he still misses Venezuela; the place where he grew up, the place he still calls his home. His grandparents passed away while he was away, and one of the most painful parts of leaving was knowing he never had the opportunity to say goodbye or give them one last hug.

He thinks about the nieces and nephews he has never met and how his own children haven't been able to grow up knowing their cousins like brothers and sisters.

He still hopes to return someday.

Because no matter how much a new place becomes home, there is something about the place you came from that can never be completely replaced.

For now, Kenny continues walking a different kind of road. The same journey that once brought him across a border searching for work has now placed him in the lives of others walking that same road behind him.

He knows what it feels like to be unseen.

And perhaps that is part of what makes him so determined to see others.

Sometimes sharing Jesus with others doesn't begin with handing someone a Bible or trying to find the perfect words to say. When someone has lost everything and doesn't know where their next meal will come from, sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is simply show them the genuine, Christlike love of Jesus.

In a world filled with agendas, opinions, and expectations, perhaps we need to remember that it isn't about us. Sometimes it is simply about seeing someone who is hurting and choosing to love them.

We can all do that. We can all choose to see the person in front of us, listen to their story, meet a need, and show them the love of Christ. And sometimes, that simple act of love can speak louder than anything we could ever say.