Dear Friends:
Lately I’ve been thinking about and praying more than usual for the young ladies who come to our center. Many of them have been on my heart and I’d like to share a bit about a couple of them. (I’m changing their names for confidentiality reasons).
Maria has been coming to the center for several years. She began school later than she should have and so had to work hard to catch up. Because she was so far behind she attended a non-traditional school on the weekends where they really didn’t teach her much. Our staff worked hard to prepare her for pre-high school exams. Now she’s attending a traditional high school and I believe she is the first of anyone in her family to do so. At school she faces hostility because she is Roma (gypsy) and also because she doesn’t know anyone, never having attended a traditional school before. Maria has many responsibilities at home especially in the care of her younger siblings. Needless to say, she is very busy keeping up with homework for herself and also for her siblings. Recently Maria had to pull her youngest sister out of kindergarten because she was unable to keep up with the work. She said: who will do homework with her? Who will make sure she gets to school in the morning? I can’t do it all…
Today and yesterday I spent most of the day picking lice out of Irina’s hair. We still aren’t done and I even had to give her a haircut so that it would be easier to pick out the eggs (the haircut actually turned out cute! And now others are requesting I do theirs. Uh oh! Actually, it’s great for practicing language and building relationships). Still, when Irina found out we’d have to cut her hair she cried and cried and said to me: I’m ugly. She also has an arm that is badly scarred and of which she does not have full use because as a child she broke it and then it grew infected and needed several surgeries, etc. Irina is a few grades behind in school, is often responsible for the care of younger siblings, and often has a bad attitude (I remember having the same problem when I was 14!) But so much of her attitude is rooted in who she believes she is, an ugly Roma.
And so these girls and others at our center face issues of discrimination both racially and sexually, hold extreme responsibilities in their homes, struggle with gender identity, often have to work hard to keep up in school, and have to overcome early childhood issues of malnutrition, being on the street begging, sexual abuse, and alcoholism in their homes.
I know that we hear so much nowadays about human trafficking in relation to women who are forced into sexual labor. The reality is that this has been a problem since the beginning of time. We know that prostitution is called the ‘oldest profession’ on earth and since its inception it has been an occupation which women are forced to occupy, either by the hand of someone with more power than they have, or the power of poverty.
And I wonder how many of our girls will be saved from such a power. How easy would it be for someone to tell Irina that she is pretty, to tantalize her with pretty things and pretty talk until he has her where he wants her and she is forced to go and do whatever he asks, including sleeping with whomever he tells her? And what of Maria’s younger sister who had to quit school? What will her future be? What if Maria is unable to finish high school and because her family needs to eat she has to walk the streets at night?
All of our lives are lived on a precarious balance and we never know what we will lose or gain, what will be taken away or what will be given. And yet, we know, or at least I am beginning to know more and more fully, that the One who gives and the One who takes away is good, is just, is love. And that makes the precariousness of the balance less frightening and, in a way, more sure. It causes me to know that no matter what I have or don’t have, what He thinks about me doesn’t change, it does not alter who I am. It doesn’t change the goodness of the One to Whom I belong.
And so, on a very practical level, I pray that these girls would be able to finish school so that one day they can get good jobs. I pray that they will have courage to face those who would discriminate against them because of their race. I pray that they would find those things they are good at, the things that give them joy, their gifts, so they can serve. I pray that they would be protected from sexual assault. But mostly, I pray and I hope with all my heart that they would know the Love that doesn’t change, but changes everything. The Love that gives them a name, that watches them when they sleep at night and holds their hand when they walk the crowded hostile halls of high schools. I long that they would know the security of Love that formed them in fearful and wonderful ways. I desire that they learn the language of Love, so that when it whispers in their ears how lovely they are, how delightful, they will hear and know and believe.
I’d ask that you remember these girls in prayer every day this month.
And, in a season of thankfulness, I remain so grateful for you.
My love,
April