Sex For Tortillas!!!

 “Because I have hope that in her eyes, it makes a difference.” That was my reply. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t know how to ever make him understand. When a person asks why I do what I do, I get upset. I get nervous. I begin to feel insignificant. Unimportant. I feel dumb.

I think maybe I was stupid for letting go of a success driven life. I question if it would serve everyone better if I just left it all and began the rat race all over again. You know the race where each of you look for the next piece of cheese hoping each one you find is bigger and better than the last. In the end your pay check is full of numbers. Sometimes, I just wish I had a pay check and the size of it is really unimportant. All of these thoughts flood through my head at this moment and are followed with, “Why? Why do I do it?”

I dread the ride to IHNFA. I always dread the ride to pick up a new kid. Recently, I had the chance to meet Madeline. She is thirteen years old and has a newborn. Picking her up to take her to her new home is a reminder of all of the car rides I have had over the past few years with the kids that first come in. I get to know them. Know their past. Cry with them. Love on them. And help give them the hope of a better future. I kind of like this part, but I kind of hate it. I hate it because I never know who will get car sick and throw up all over me. (She only threw up twice.) It can be a long two hours. I hate it most because I never know what words will be filtered through my ears.  There is a part of me that cannot stand the horrid history that most of our kids bring with them. You think you have baggage because of past issues, but hear this. “My family couldn’t afford to send me to school. We had no money for food. I was sold so that my siblings could eat.”  Are you okay with that? How did that make you feel? “They were able to eat.”

My insides begin to twist and the silent grey matter yells!! They were able to eat? That makes it have value? It was worth it? How does that make it worth it?! Every day for the rest of her life you get to look at the result of a meal that was placed on the table.  What was taught to her is that her life, her body, and her value is worth a small meal! I am not talking a fine dining steak and potatoes meal. I am talking a tortilla with some beans and eggs! She has a child and she should be studying! She has a baby and she should be playing with baby dolls! She is forced to change diapers and wake up four times in the middle of the night for the next few months, but her little sister got to eat a tortilla!! I want to ask if she cried. Why did they pick you? Did it hurt? Were you scared? What infections did you get? Have you had treatment for it? Those answers, I know, will come with time.

What were you doing when you were thirteen? What did you think about? What did you dream of? How did you spend your time?

Madeline is so excited just for the chance to go to school. How would you have felt if you were thirteen and starting kindergarten? She is stoked! I would have felt like the stupid kid with the dunce hat. Not her. She doesn’t even seem to mind that she has to take care of her baby. She seems so resilient. It is amazing! So strong for being so young.

So back to the original question:

Why do I do it? Because I hope that I can change her world and give her the opportunity to have a future that is full of true love, not sexual slavery. I hope that her daughter will grow up in a functional home and learn real life values so that she can have a better future than her mom and not suffer the same abuse. I hope that there is some small chance that the backwards thinking that comes with abuse and poverty can be broken and that a new cycle will begin in her family with a new heritage that can be found in Him! I hope, that there is some sliver of a chance that Madeline will find healing, and wholeness, and purpose, and have an opportunity to make something with her life. I hope, more than anything, that she will discover hope in Him.

More importantly, I do it because I know this:

One day, it will have made a difference in her eyes.

Because from now on there is no more sex for tortillas!