Behind a darkened curtain, she waits. Though ten other girls wait with her, all with beautifully painted faces, she is alone in the darkness of the moment. She is alone in the darkness of her soul. The girls say little, hoping only that they will not be chosen as a candidate in this bizarre pageant.

Terrifying shadows dart in the thin light bordering the doorframe. As the young girls sit quietly, seeking not to draw attention to themselves, a calloused hand clenches back the fabric that separates them from the outside world.

The silhouetted face of a man peers at the selection of teenagers, squinting from the rush of light. Again, she hopes he will not choose her. Then, his other hand reaches into the darkness. His crooked finger points at her.

She has no voice in this demoralizing lottery. In the eyes of this man and in the eyes of her owners, she is worth only four dollars. For the past two years, she has been a victim of the sex trade in Mumbai. In every encounter with the depravity of man, she blinks away her family back in the village, the family who sold her when she was 14 years old. After two years in these sordid circumstances, her mind has been numbed by the excruciating sadness.

Now at age 16, she has saved all her money to buy back her freedom — freedom she feels she no longer deserves. Her mind is stained from these years of slavery.

She is touched but cannot feel.
She is hurt but cannot cry.
She is awake but not alive.

This is her life, chosen by others. She knows, apart from a miracle, that she will eventually join others like her who have been tossed aside – their skin gray and translucent with open sores, slowly dying on sidewalk cots for all the world to see.

God sees your worth, little sister. He created you. His heart breaks with yours. He wants you to know and trust Him. He is the artist who can create something beautiful from all the pain and sadness you have endured. He is the author who can rewrite the pages of your life. He has chosen you to be His princess and His bride.

(God, fill these girls’ hearts with the courage to run from these streets. Shelter them and mend their shattered minds. Protect your daughters.)

Article written by: Chet Palladino