Hopeful Hearts Ministry

7:15pm the doorbell rings and Bailey, the family yellow lab, goes nuts at the door.  Through the etched glass I could see whomever it was jump back and take position at least 3 yards away.  Once Bailey was out of the way I opened the door to find a young woman in a hoodie, jeans and folded up brochure in her hand.

I knew what this was before she even spoke a word.  They come to my house every year at this same time because Neal and I are two bleeding hearts that will do anything to help a cause, even if we aren’t certain how much it actually helps or care for the ‘magazines’ or ‘books’ that we are buying.  Every young adult with this particular program that has come to our door has always been polite and persistent in sales.  We have to at least give it to them for the effort. 😉

So when I opened the door I expected to hear the pitch but first she says, “Good evening Miss.  I know you weren’t expecting me and I know it’s dark and I’m dark so I certainly don’t mean to be at your door this late.”

I couldn’t help myself.  I laughed out loud.  “It’s dark and your dark, that is an awesome line,” I said and smiled. 🙂 

She laughed and I could see she relaxed a little.  She stepped forward and put out her hand for me to shake.  “I’m Larentha,” she said.

“I’m Shannon Deitz,” I said and shook her hand.

“Well ma’am I am with the Fresh Start Enterprise, have you ever heard of them?”

I nodded and encouraged her to go on.

“Oh, good, well as you know they take kids out of the inner city and the ghetto,” she paused, “Do you know what the ghetto is?”  She said this with a straight face.

Again I smiled an encouraging smile.  “Yes, I do.  Honestly, where my husband and I first lived wasn’t far from being there ourselves with drug deals happening at the corner of our street.”

Her eyes got wide.  “Really?” she asked.  “But your house is so beautiful and big.”

“Well, we didn’t always have this home and we were young when we got married so we didn’t have much to begin our life together.”

That’s all it took, one honest comment and she’d forgotten her sales pitch.  “Do you mind me asking Miss. S what do you do now?”

Again I couldn’t stop smiling.  There was something about this young woman that I just knew I needed to be there for her at this very moment.  So I proceeded to tell her what I do. 

Her mouth literally fell open.  She said, “I’m a rape survivor.  My momma’s boyfriend raped me.  That’s why I came down here.  I can’t be with my family anymore.  My cousin raped me when I was younger and then, like I said, my mom’s boyfriend.”  The emotion on her face went from professional politeness to pure sadness, self-doubt and shame.

We were still standing outside and even though I know many would think I’m a sucker for any story, I can tell you I knew she wasn’t lying.  A survivor knows.  “Would you like to come in?” I opened the door.

She was hesitant at first and then it was as if I had wound up a Jack in the Box and the story was finally able to POP out.  She went to the first seat she found and began to tell me her story.

Mother addicted to drugs.  Grandmother raised her.  Raped first by her cousin.  Sexually active at a young age.  Pregnant but didn’t keep the baby.  Taken from her home by CPS more than once.  Mother kept having babies.  Was back in her home at 17 when her mother’s recent ‘baby daddy’ raped her.  It was at this point that she broke down and told me in detail what happened.  The fear and control that he instilled in her and the details of her story…plus the fact she tried to tell her mother and her mother didn’t believe her, instead blamed her made my blood boil.

In the end she was crying and then suddenly she smiled.  “It feels so good to talk about this.  I’ve never told anyone what happened to me.  I just found out about this job and came here to Texas so I could try to go back to school and do more with my life.”

In the hour she was with me I found out she had her high school diploma but did have trouble with reading.  She has her sights set on getting a culinary degree and one day opening a Soul Food restaurant.  I encouraged her to never give up.

And, yes, I did buy some books. 😉 

When she left I asked if she would mind if I shared her story and if I could take her picture.  She was so excited to do so.  “If my story can help others know they don’t have to live the way their momma’s or daddy’s are livin’ then I’m good with that.  You made me feel so good by letting me talk I don’t care who knows.”