Sometimes it’s easy to think about our work in terms of programs, schedules, or budgets. But every once in a while, something happens that pulls us back to the heart of it all: real people, with real challenges and real breakthroughs.
That’s where we met Daylin Priscila Alvarado Vargas.

Daylin was coming to the Brillaguate Saturday classes, and like the other students, she worked hard and paid attention. But something stood out. She was leaning close—really close—to her papers in order to read. At first, the teachers thought maybe she was just concentrating, but it kept happening. Finally, Sara (the director of the Brillaguate program) asked her if she could see well.
Her answer was honest and simple: no. She said she couldn’t see very well and that her head hurt all the time. Imagine trying to do schoolwork while straining your eyes every moment, battling a headache that never lets up. Still, she kept showing up.
When exam time came, her struggle became undeniable. That’s when Sara realized this wasn’t a matter of effort or intelligence—it was her eyesight. She needed glasses. Daylin’s family already knew about the problem, but they simply didn’t have the resources to afford the appointment and fill the prescription. With the family’s permission, Sara scheduled an eye appointment, and thanks to support from the Brillaguate program, Daylin received her first pair of glasses. And not just any glasses—her prescription was strong.
The difference was remarkable. For the first time, Daylin could sit comfortably, read without pain, and focus on her learning instead of fighting just to see the words on the page.
Stories like this remind us why Brillaguate matters. The program does so much more than provide financial help for school supplies or a monthly stipend—it offers mentorship, encouragement, and practical support in moments just like Daylin’s. Whether it’s helping a girl discover her own leadership skills, giving her tools to stay in school, or simply making sure she can see her textbooks, Brillaguate is opening doors that once seemed closed.
Because in the end, it isn’t about programs or numbers. It’s about Daylin—and students like her—who remind us why we do this work.
