The warm summer sun blinds my eyes as I climb into the back seat of my grandma’s silver vehicle. “Here we go!” sing my grandparents. “Mind telling me where exactly where we’re going?” I let out. Silence. My giddy grandparents exchange a smile and tell me not a chance. “Well can you at least give me two hints?” I say nosily. Naturally, I’m excited to see the exotic destinations they are planning to take me. I am in San Diego, California, the best state in the United Sates of America, with two of my two favorite people on Earth. Where were these beloved people taking me?

Our first stop is at a California tourist shop about an hour away from their home. “Why are they taking me to this shop? Why not the other ten tourist shops we passed?” I wondered. “This is the first place I went to when I moved here,” she says with a sly smile waxing as the seconds tick away. “My mother took me here and bought me five buckets of paint; three contained purple, and two contained blue. I was confused because I didn’t understand why of all things she bought me paint. But as she pulled up to the place we’ll be taking you to, I instantly understood. So I’ll be buying you three purple and two blue buckets of paint, and eventually you’ll understand why,” she says in a rush.

As I nervously get into the car with a bucket in each hand, I ponder the countless possible destinations I could be introduced to. After two hours of driving through nothing but dessert and mountains, we arrive at our destination. The sight is truly indescribable. Ahead of me lay the most colorful mountain I’ve ever seen. It was painted all different kinds of colors, with its title saying: God Is Love. It has a winding yellow brick road leading to the top of the mountain, a bible verse underneath it inside a red heart, a painted car, cave area, and more! I finally understand what the buckets of paint are to be used for. “This is amazing,” I whisper.

An old man comes up to my grandparents and me with a welcoming smile on his face. “Thank you for coming. God is good,” he says. “Yes, God is good indeed,” my grandma, agrees. I hand him the buckets of paint, and he thanks me profusely. We talk to the man for a while, before he introduces us to his artwork. I am amazed. How is this even possible? After countless amount of pictures with different sides of the mountain, we thank the man for all of his hard work, and head to the car. “Can I stay behind for a minute?” I ask. “Of course honey,” my sweet grandma says knowingly.

I sit down in the cave made of hay, and think about how many lives this mountain has touched and changed. Amazing. I realize my grandparents couldn’t have taken me to a better destination, and I am truly thankful for all the thought and effort she has put into this road trip. Finally, I grab a puzzle, wave goodbye to the kind old man, and thank my grandparents for the amazing experience, under the warm summer sun, in California.