by An Anonymous Contributor
Because of the sensitive nature of this blog, the author wished to remain anonymous. However, we can assure you this story is true. We thought it a most appropriate testimony to close our series on human trafficking.
I will tell you a little family secret that I think is very misunderstood. Several years ago I was at my uncle’s house, and we were looking at some pictures. I remember this one picture in particular with my grandmother at around twelve years old with a very nice bicycle. He asked, “Do you know where she got that from?” Of course, we had no idea. He proceeded to tell us that she received several nice things from men who could afford them.
Alarms went off in my head. I was in complete shock, but then so much started to make sense. My heart broke that someone would think it was her choice to prostitute herself for nice things at the age of twelve. I also found out at this time that her mother (my great-grandmother) ran a brothel.
This all happened before I even knew anything about human trafficking, but I knew enough about life and children to know this was wrong and this was not the choice of a little twelve-year-old girl.
That little girl who was receiving great gifts when she was twelve went on to leave her husband and four children when the oldest was ten and the youngest was only six months old. This left scars of brokenness in its wake. She eventually returned, bringing gifts of guilt, but then she left again. She repeated this pattern again and again.
She eventually returned for good, because she was around when I was growing up. Her children were grown, and she now had two grandchildren, one boy and one girl about the same age. I was that girl. I never understood how a grandma could dislike her own granddaughter. Even as I write this now, it hurts to remember the way she treated me so differently from my cousin. I just don’t think she liked me.
I understand a lot more now. I had the childhood she should have had the right to experience. Luckily, my mom loved me more than anything. I absolutely know that dads are important and necessary, but there is something about a mother’s love that nothing else compares to. My grandmother, aunt, uncles, and dad didn’t have the love of a mother, and it has left scars.
The cousin I grew up with unfortunately went on to make bad decisions and is now on death row. His mom had my grandmother for a mom. I see this cycle, and it has to stop. There is only one way—Jesus.
Jesus is our Mother and our Father. He is our Savior from anything this ugly world will throw at us. He came to redeem us. This world is not our ultimate home, but through Him, we can spend eternity with our Father in Heaven.
He brings us peace in the midst of chaos. No matter what is going on around us, He is with us.