MIAMI — The shrieks of a 3-year-old being separated from his family shook Miami International Airport on Friday, Sept. 4, as the youngest sibling of Wendy Domingo traveled to Guatemala to be reunited with his parents.
Domingo and her three siblings sobbed as they watched Aiden wail while being carried through a TSA checkpoint. The toddler clung to plastic barriers, calling out to his sisters and brothers. He hadn't left their company — and often their embrace — since his parents self-deported after Border Patrol agents detained near Greenacres on Aug. 9.
Travelers bound for other destinations stopped to watch. Some wiped away tears before quietly moving on. Others turned away and covered their ears.
Then Aiden was gone. But his high-pitched cries
could still be heard through the terminal.
"I was trying not to cry during that moment, but it hit me," said Domingo, who became responsible of caring for three siblings after Border Patrol agents took them into custody in front of their children, days after her 18th birthday.
"God knows when I’m going to see him again. Once I know he is with my parents and see they are happy, then I'll be OK."
Eight children flown to Guatemala to be reunited with deported parents
Aiden was one of eight children traveling to Guatemala to reunite with their deported parents. Like Aiden, six are U.S. citizens. Some were boarding a plane for the first time.
Marcos, 12, Jesus, 9, Victoriano, 8, and Josefa, 5, flew with their father. Jose, 14, carried a backpack and an orange llama plush toy. Luis, 2, and Fabiana, 1, arrived in strollers pushed by their mother, Petrona. It was Victoriano's eighth birthday, and he proudly wore a blue jersey telling that to the world.
For some, the flight would take them to a country they had never visited. Others left Guatemala as toddlers and have little memory of it.

They are among a growing number of children, many of them U.S. citizens, who are left behind after their parents get detained and deported amid the Trump administration's enforcement of laws against immigrants in the U.S. without documentation.
Many are left with two choices: Enter foster care or leave the U.S. to reunite with their parents.
The Guatemalan-Maya Center, a Lake Worth Beach nonprofit, has coordinated reunifications flight by connecting children with deported parents. It secures passports, arranges travel and, in some cases, finds temporary housing.
Since 2025, the center has helped to reunite 53 children with their parents in countries including Guatemala, Colombia and Mexico.
In Guatemala, the children will settle in rural villages where access to education, health care and internet service are scarce. Next week, instead of going back to class in their daycare, elementary and middle schools in Palm Beach County, they will attend small-country schools where tuition is only free until sixth grade.
"The kids are leaving their homes," said Lindsay McElroy of the Guatemala-Mayan Center. "They're leaving their schools, teachers and classmates. They're leaving everything they've ever known. They know they're not going to have the same educational opportunities, and it's a big thing for kids that are to say goodbye to all their friends and lives."
Many of children returned to Guatemala are U.S. citizens by birth
It was still dark outside when Pedro woke his four children and dressed them for what he feared would be their last morning together for the foreseeable future. He brushed Josefa's hair into a ponytail secured with a pink scrunchie.
After seeing friends, neighbors and coworkers get detained and deported, Pedro said he made the toughest decision of his life: sending their U.S.-born children to live with their mother in Guatemala.
"I hate to do this," Pedro said, fighting back tears. "But I can’t help to think that one day I will not return home and my kids will stay alone.”

Pedro and his children arrived at about 4 a.m. at the Guatemala-Mayan Center, where the staff gathered all four families to drive them to the airport. While their father loaded suitcases into a van, Josefa and Victoriano played with blocks and a toy supermarket set, seemingly unaware of the significance of the day.
Domingo arrived a short time later with her younger siblings. She hurried them from the car while pulling suitcases stuffed with most of Aiden's belongings and many of her parents' possessions.
Jose walked in wearing a hooded sweatshirt pulled over his face. He hugged his aunt goodbye and quietly waited for his turn to board the van.
It was a bittersweet ride. At first, the children were excited. Then, they realized their parents wouldn't be traveling with them and that they would not return to the U.S. for a long time.

At the airport, Maria de la Guardia, a teacher at the Guatemalan-Maya Center, sat them down to go over all the things in their new backpacks. They had notebooks, folders, stickers and a new set of crayons. The staff also packed brownies for them to sing "Happy Birthday" to Victoriano during the flight.
As the boarding time approached, families took turns saying goodbye.
Domingo gently woke Aiden, who had fallen asleep in her arms. She and her siblings wrapped him in a long group hug. The moment Aiden was lifted from her arms, he began to sob.
Nearby, Pedro gathered his four children, wrapped his arms around them, whispered "Los amo" — I love you. He kissed their cheeks and shook each of his sons' hands one last time.
Petrona stepped away from the crowd and knelt between her toddlers. As they sucked on bottles staring at her, she kissed them, pressed her forehead against theirs and traced the sign of the cross above their heads. She pressed her forehead against theirs again and made the sign of a cross over their head. Tears soaked her shirt and hair.
Led by De la Guardia, the children slowly made their way toward the security checkpoint. Beside her was the Rev. Frank O'Loughlin, the founder of the Guatemalan-Maya Center. He volunteered to accompany the group and deliver them to their families.
As they disappeared through security, Pedro, Petrona and Domingo and her siblings broke down in tears while the center's staff tried to comfort them.
“We see this almost daily, and it doesn’t get easier,” said Mayra Domingo Cardenas, the center’s program coordinator.
Her voice cracked: “It’s inhumane not to feel the pain in the children’s cries.”
Valentina Palm covers immigration and breaking news for The Palm Beach Post. Email her at vpalm@pbpost.com and follow her on X, the platform formerly known as Twitter, at @ValenPalmB. Support local journalism: Subscribe today.
This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: Tears flow as 8 kids fly to Guatemala to reunite with deported parents











