05/23/2026
“I saw you as you quickly exited the stage and grabbed the first seat with your head down, hoping no one would see you. You simply did not fit in. Doing what you were doing was the last thing you wanted to be doing in this life.
It took a while to understand your name through the deafening sounds of the music and the distracting (and disgusting) sights on stage. It was not until we communicated through Google translate that I could finally pronounce your name.
When you tell me your age is 18, I wonder if that's your real age or if you’re younger. It really doesn't matter: all that matters is that you’re in a place you don't want to be in, in a strange city, and yet you’re heart is in a noble place: trying to help your mom with her debt.
You were not happy to be chosen, as many claim girls like you are. You were nervous. You were a scared little girl who was afraid and ashamed: afraid of this place that you knew little of, ashamed of the black birth mark that defines you.
There was fear and desperation in your voice as you shared not once but twice that ‘me no like, me no like’ as you pointed towards me and shared with that you do not like or want to go away with customers.
I'm sure you have been hurt before, probably more than once, by others.
Although we sat together for only a few moments, I want you to know that you impacted my life. For the first time, I was able to see and hear the real heart that lies underneath the smiles of so many.
My prayer for you is that you can find another way to help pay your mom’s debt. I pray that the love in your mother’s heart would rise up and reach out and bring her baby girl back home where she belongs.
I will probably never see you again, but I will pray for you often. In the meantime, be safe. Be smart. Keep saying no.”