At first I thought I’d title this post as human trafficking, but then who would want to read about that, right? It is a ‘let’s shove it under the carpet’ type of thing. Everyone knows it’s out there, but not many of us want to hear or talk about it. I admit, I am one of those people. I fall into the statistics of let’s shove it under the carpet because it’s just too demanding on the mind. It so much more prettier to talk about the good things in life. A fact that human race can stoop, and stoop to such deplorable levels makes me want to vomit. Just hearing about it makes my skin crawl. So if you are confused about what I am saying here, be confused no more. This post is about slave trade or human trafficking or the other hundreds of names it goes by.
A very good friend of mine sent me this email about the Super Bowl and how it is one of the most heavily trafficked events. I don’t mean by spectators at the actual game; I mean the predators who prey on under aged children. Why do I write this post? I made a promise to myself after reading her email that I will aid her effort in creating awareness. All she asks is that we pray for the victims of these atrocious crimes. I know someone will read this post somewhere, and I ask you to pass on this information so we can help prevent crimes such as these from happening.
Part of her email said, “The subject line of this email actually comes from a story told by the same guy I mentioned above. He & a friend were out to dinner & got approached by a couple of trafficked teenage girls. When they offered to help them find somewhere safe to go, one of the girls said “We’re like a whisper. We won’t be here tomorrow. And you’ll never see us again…” before they went back to their pimp. If you remember, please pray for Chelsea & Ayla.”
It is looms heavily over my conscience that I cannot do anything about it. I am glad and grateful to my friend, T for sending me that email. I am aware, and I know. I pray to God that he sends his grace and mercy down on us all.
I pray for you, Chelsea and Ayla!
Traffick911, LightForce International
I was out getting some nick-knacks at the store today. We have a two at home that absolutely believes he’s gorging on gummy bunnies for real. So much so that he wonders if one of them bunnies in the bushes has disappeared because he ate one more of his gummy bunny pack. Well, who am I to stop him from imagining the wildest stuff ;-). I gather he will only have so many years of imaginary constructs, and then the real world will take over. So let the gummy bunnies work their magic for now.
Neways, this post is not about gorging on gummy bunnies. It is about love. After all, my blog tag says, “musing about LOVE, life, and motherhood, and this post fits perfectly into that.
I met an acquaintance at the store and she was shopping with her two in tow. Twos I tell you! They can be so many things in a split second. They can go from darling angles to little devils in the blink of an eye. We kept passing each other every once in a while. I was either behind her or next to her, or in front of her, and you get the drift. The little one was trotting next to her mom offering a helping hand. We checked out pretty much at the same time. She was ahead of me and I was hanging behind. Coincidentally, we were parked right next to each other. As I put my stuff in the trunk, there was a huge wail. The little one had tripped and fallen on the ground. Nothing too serious, but the presence of a stranger made the situation look like a mountain had just collapsed.
She was embarrassed that someone other than her mom had witnessed this debacle. I pretended not to look to make the little one feel better. But that wasn’t good enough. Mom picked her up, pushed those tiny pants up, and kissed the little boo-boo away. That was the moment, and I caught it just in time.
Oh! What it did to my heart, I can’t tell. But I felt my heart sink; the kind that makes you want to cry and smile at the same time. There is nothing I tell you, nothing in this world that can come close to a mother’s love for her child. The pain, the embarrassment, and the injured knee disappeared behind a curtain of hugs and kisses.