How do you know you’ll want to remember something forever, even after it’s already happened? Irasema Renteria, Back2Back Culiacán Co-Director, recently stood before a group of school-aged children and asked: “If you could have a backpack with any character you wanted on it, who would it be?” It was a connection question, but one that carried deeper meaning.
Irasema and the Back2Back Culiacán team serve at a breakfast program in the city every Saturday. This time creates opportunities for relationship-building, allowing staff to better understand the families they serve. They gather around a Bible reading, connect through play, share a meal, and make space for children to talk and ask questions as they feel comfortable.
Every Saturday begins with a question designed for peer engagement. On this morning, the question had a bigger purpose.
As part of the support Back2Back provides to families, the children were going to receive brand-new backpacks for school. The team wanted each gift to feel personal, so they used the children’s answers to find backpacks featuring the characters they had chosen. “We wanted to give them something they would truly love and wouldn’t have gotten otherwise,” shared Back2Back staff.
The surprise was ready two weeks later. The breakfast program unfolded as always: the kids played and ate, and as they prepared to leave, each child was handed a backpack of their own. There was excitement all around, but one reaction stood out.
Luisito* and his older sister were among the children there that Saturday. His sister held up her new book bag, smiling wide as Luisito clung to his mother’s leg. His face asked the question he couldn’t say aloud: Why does she get one and I don’t?
Irasema knelt in front of him and handed him his own backpack, with the exact character he named weeks before. He transformed; a wide smile took over his face as he realized what he was holding.
Someone had listened to him. A backpack is a simple thing, but a child’s voice being heard and remembered is not.
Luisito walked home that afternoon beside his sister, both children clinging to their new bags. Tucked inside that ordinary Saturday was something far more lasting than a school supply: the quiet reminder that when he spoke, he was heard. He was worth remembering, and that makes a moment unforgettable.
