I moved to Honduras after graduating university. I had told my family and friends I wanted to make a difference in the world. The truth is I was running away from home. Four years earlier I had given my daughter up for adoption and was suffering with profound grief. I had hoped the jungle would absorb my pain.

On the ranch we were often startled by migrants who appeared in our orchard as apparitions, looking for water and a place to rest and regroup. We knew it was illegal to help them, but never learned how illegal.