Sometimes I think about those two children.The little boy and the little girl that ripped my heart that busy day at the metro. It was just my second day in the second largest city in the world of 10 million people...and it looked a little bit just like this (see second picture to the right). Somehow I heard it, though. A muffled cry and a whimper caught my ear. Surrounded by men in turbans and women in saris were two children, a little girl with porcelain skin, silky dark hair and almond-shaped eyes that screamed terror. A little boy, coarse hair and distinct African pigment. Held in violent grasps by two pompous, overweight men in curling mustaches. Dragging their little bodies across the filth of the floor, despite their pleas for help, determined to make a healthy sum of profit for their foreign imports.
A mechanical beep. The metro door closed and I was whisked off to the other side of the city, I stood in horrified shock as the city's skyline became a rushing blur.
Trafficked.
And the reality of the 27 million other slaves in this world became that much more real to me.
Everything in me screamed to search the metro, the streets, the entire city for the children. But I knew I'd only find thousands of others just like them.
It's encounters like this that make it hard to answer the question, "Was your summer fun?"
No, no it was not "fun". We had fun...we made it fun, we learned to laugh when we waded in murky sewage water that soaked our pants and when urgent runs to the outhouse or nearest field could have been considered an Olympic sport at the speed we ran. At the end of the day, we'd laugh over situations that made a week of college exams seem like a vacation. We learned that if we didn't laugh, we'd cry.
But, I can't laugh about this particular story. No, this story is worth my tears and I hope it's worth your's, too, as we fight to end modern-day slavery through prayer, support, and obeying Mark 15:16. I wish I could end this story with a heroic act of courage, leaving us with warm hearts that all is well again. But I have to rest in the promises of Jesus, that He has the victory and that one day, all creation will witness His glorious return, including these children.