Before reading this, make sure you read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 of Mae’s story. I know it’s long, but I promise it’s worth it.
The next day I waited at the coffee shop for Mae to come. I was worried that she would get scared of the potentially life-changing options this meeting would open up and not come. But then she walked through the door. She gave me a big hug, I ordered us some lunch, and I told Emmi we were ready to start.
Emmi came to our couches, sat down, and greeted Mae. From then on, I couldn’t understand more than a few words that were spoken. I went from being the translator for the last five months to desperately wishing for subtitles myself. But this was the kind of conversation that I didn’t really need translation to understand. The look on Mae’s face and the tone of their voices spoke volumes. Sometimes she would look down at her lap for several minutes, and I would see tears falling and staining her jeans. Then Emmi would ask the same question repeatedly, and Mae would finally look up and nod tentatively. I can only guess that it went something like this: “Do you believe that you’re worth it? That you can change? That God loves you enough to bring you something better? Do you?” “Yes.”
After about an hour of this, a delicious plate of cashew chicken, and a smoothie, I was ready to know what was going on. They finished talking and Emmi turned to me. “I think she is good. Her heart is good, and she is ready to get out. She will come back Friday to meet with me again. Before that I will talk to my leaders and your team, and we will make a plan to find a new place for her.” I looked across the table at Mae and smiled. She looked into my eyes, and for the first time since I met her I could see something more than desperation and desire. I could see hope.
I didn’t know how the details would shake out, but from that moment on I knew that Mae would be free someday soon. She would not have to sell her body every night, potentially infecting dozens of men and their wives and girlfriends back home with HIV, just to earn enough money to eat. She would not have to downplay her natural sweetness in an attempt to be the seductive temptress that the bar owners paid for. She would not have to lie awake at night wondering if she could take another day of this torture. She would be free.
After Emmi walked away, Mae gave me a long, tight hug. She whispered in my ear, “Thank you for today. Last night I sleep good for the first time in a long time. Today was a good day.”
After she left, I looked around at the walls of WonGen Cafe. I thought about LightHouse in Action and its wonderful ministry potential here in Thailand, and I realized that LightHouse is such a prophetic name for this kind of work. The sex trafficking industry is a dark, dark place, but people like Emmi are courageously shining a light into the darkness. They are a lighthouse. But the rest of the name is important too. This isn’t the stationary kind of lighthouse that simply sits on a cliff above the ocean and guides ships to itself. This lighthouse goes out to the girls who are lost in the sea of sexual slavery, shines its light in the darkest places, and guides lost people who need help to a safe port. This is a LightHouse in Action, and I’m getting a front-row seat to see how it’s all done.
To be continued…
