A girl is born in the USA. She is beautiful and her family is poor. She attends school and obtains a high school degree. Shortly after graduating she meets a man, falls in love and gets married. They are blessed with two children, a girl and a boy. Their family is complete, but God has other plans. The woman discovers she is pregnant for the third time. This child, a girl, is raised in a home with food, toys, heating and air conditioning and her family regularly attends church. She attends school and even goes on to attend college and obtain a Master’s degree. She is labeled – a PK or Preacher’s Kid. Most respect the title and she is treated with a certain level of dignity. Perhaps one day she will grow up to walk in her father’s footsteps.
Meanwhile, half way around the world in India, a girl is born. She is beautiful and her family is poor. They have no running water and not enough food to go around. All six children and parents share a one room home that has no heating and air conditioning and they are constantly exposed to the elements and poor air quality. All of the family members are expected to work from the time they can walk—collecting trash to recycle, begging for money, or any odd job they can to bring home money for food. So, the girl never attends school. At age thirteen her parents decide they cannot continue to survivie in these conditions. Since both parents work 15-16 hour days 7 days a week and all of the pregnancies were unplanned the children are viewed as nucances and property. So, when a businessman approaches the father and offers 20,000 rupees for his daughter, more than a year’s wages for the whole family, he agrees.
The girl goes with the man and he repeatedly rapes her to break her spirit. He tells her that if she tries to escape he will kill her family. He then takes her to a brothel in Mumbai to earn money as a sex worker. She must attract men and earn her keep as he has paid good money for her. If she is ever caught crying or being sad, indifferent or angry she will be beaten. She must flirt with the men and try to seduce them. Daily she is used, abused, raped and treated with less respect than a public toilet. The men do not wear condoms and soon the girl becomes pregnant. She does not want the child and since she has never known love or affections, she obviously cannot show it to her child. The child is starved for affection, for food, and is constantly exposed to sexual depravity as a “Daycare for children of sex slaves” does not exist.
As the daughter of a prostitute the child receives no respect and becomes emotionally dead with no one to hear her she has taught herself not to even cry or speak, and to have no needs because they wouldn’t be met anyway. Her future will not be unlike her mothers. Daughters of prostitutes become additional property to the owner of the prostitute. They will be raised and cared for until they themselves can join in their mother’s footsteps.
On a hot January day in 2013 the daughter of the preacher from the USA, and the daughter of the prostitute from India locked eyes in a one room home in the red light district in India. The prostitute’s daughter was covered in dirt, her nails were black with grime, her clothes had holes and were stained. She had sores and scars on her legs and no shoes on her feet. Her face contained no smile and God spoke to me, the daughter of a preacher, that her outward appearance was a stark resemblance to the condition of her heart. Though she is around three years old (not even viewed as important enough by her mother to remember when she was born) she would not speak. With great reluctance she came to me, but despite all of my efforts, she simply would not smile. I hugged her, cuddled her, tickled her, but to no avail. She had a pencil in one hand and a storybook in the other as she climbed into my lap. She colored for a bit while I just held her. I pulled out my iPhone to take a picture of us. She wasn’t smiling in the photo, but when I showed her the photo she smiled and said something in Hindi. It was probably the first time she ever saw a picture of herself. We sat for a while longer. She colored as I prayed off curses that had been spoken over her and prayed blessings upon her. I prayed that she would be rescued from her circumstances and almost certain future as a prostitute. I prayed that despite her circumstances she would know the love of her heavenly Father. For security reasons I cannot post her name or pictures of her.
The preacher & the prostitute…how God dearly loves them both! Jesus died for both of them. It is only by the grace of God that I am who I am and was born in the USA to a preacher and not in India to a prostitute.
Pray for India.
