I saw my perception of paradise yesterday.
There were mountains covered by lush green palms, with
streams running through and the sun beaming down on everything. It was breathtaking. I kept imagining what it would be like to
build a little tree house, hang up a hammock and call it home.
Just a few minutes into our stroll of what I call “paradise�,
the atmosphere shifted. I felt heaviness
lay over us. The scenery wasn’t changing
exactly, but the contents inside of it were.
I was entering into what easily could be a perception of hell to many
people. There was poverty, quite a lot
of it, but that’s not what directed the darkness. 
Through our connection to a chief in a specific hill tribe,
we were invited to visit and tour through their village. One of the girls who lives at our home is
from this tribe, so she accompanied us. When we first arrived, she was greeted
excitedly by one of her friends. It was
so precious to see. It was a huge honor to be invited to visit one
of these tribes, as they typically don’t allow foreigners within their community.
One of my first observations as we were walking around the
village was that there were a lot of small children and middle-aged men and
women, but there seemed to be a teenage/early adult population that was
missing. One of the house parents accompanying us on
the trip explained to us that, in the hill tribe culture, once a child reaches
the age of 12, he or she is expected to provide for their parents
financially. Focusing on the girls, this
usually encourages them to either get married or to travel to a bigger city in
search of work. Unfortunately, because
of the lack of education in these tribes, little work is available for the girl
one she gets to the city. The only work
that is readily available, unbiased to a lack of education, is the sex industry. As long as you can lie there and pretend to
be a machine, you’ve met the qualifications.
The other alternative of a forced, incredibly young marriage
can trap girls into abusive confinements.
What I view to be paradise is a prison for them every day. I was truly shook to my core when the house
mom traveling with us told us that the friend who had greeted our girl from the
home was to be married in a week or so.
She is 12. She looks as though
she hasn’t hit puberty yet and the childish innocence that comes with a girl
her age I know is soon going to be stripped from her. It’s completely nuts. If I would have gotten married at the age of
12, I would be experiencing my ten-year anniversary this year. The reality of it is hard to grasp.
As sad as our trip yesterday made me, it also gave me new
appreciation. I am so incredibly
grateful to have our girls here at the home, and not in these high-risk
environments. I am also so thankful to
be part of a ministry that is passionate about the prevention of young girls
(and boys) entering into the sex trade.
I am so grateful that my eyes have been opened to this injustice and
that I am called to walk out of my ignorance.
And I am thankful that now, this is true for you as well.
(Photo credit to Rachel Rittman :))
