Once again, I must start this post with gratitude. Three more of you have generously matched my donation to International Justice Mission and Love 146: Angela Pearson, Diana Trautwein, and Sarah Webber.
This means that each comment is now worth $10.50! If we receive all 100 comments that we’re hoping for, we’ll donate over $1000 to these two organizations! (So please, leave a comment!)
Today, I’m highlighting the work of Love 146, an organization that works specifically to end child sex slavery and exploitation. They focus on three primary areas: prevention, aftercare, and research.
Their prevention efforts are focused on three geographical areas: Asia, the United States, and Europe. In Asia, they focus on intervention with at-risk boys in India, education and infrastructure-building in at-risk communities along the Thai-Cambodia border, and empowering local NGO’s to lead and sustain the abolition movement in their area.
Their aftercare programs (which is where the money we’re donating to them will go) include a safe house in the Philippines for girls who have been rescued from sexual slavery and a training program for those who work with rescued girls.
Love 146 is also actively involved in researching the best ways to prevent sexual slavery and exploitation and the best ways to care for and reintegrate those who have endured the horror of sexual slavery.
All this is wonderful and hopeful, and I’m so glad we get to participate in the work that Love 146 is doing.
But a big part of the reason I chose to support Love 146 is because of the story of behind their name. Co-founder Rob Morris tells the story. The words below are his; the line breaks (and some punctuation) are mine.
We found ourselves standing
shoulder to shoulder
with predators
in a small room, looking
at little girls through
a pane of glass.
All of the girls wore red
dresses with a number
pinned to their dress for
identification.
They sat, blankly
watching cartoons on TV. They were
vacant,
shells
of what a child
should be.
There was no light
in their eyes, no life. Their light
had been taken
from them.
These children—
raped each night,
every night—they were so
young.
Thirteen, eleven—
it was hard
to tell. Sorrow covered their faces
with nothingness.
Except one girl.
One girl who wouldn’t
watch the cartoons.
Her number was 146.
She was looking beyond
the glass.
She was staring out at us with a
piercing gaze. There was still fight
in her eyes. There was still
life
in this girl.
Later, a raid on
the brothel—children were rescued. But the girl—
the girl who wore
number 146—
was not there.
We do not know:
What happened to her?
We will never
forget
her.
*****
This post is part of my Stop Slavery series, a fundraiser for International Justice Mission and Love 146: for every comment, ten lovely women and I will donate a total of $10.50 ($5.25 to Love 146′s aftercare programs for girls rescued from the sex trade and another $5.25 to IJM.)
Images courtesy of Love 146.
