Bottle Of Grace


…The last brothel we visited was run by a Madam whose granddaughter is in our care. She came to the Project Rescue affiliated aftercare home and gave her granddaughter to them stating, ‘I don’t want her to turn out like me.’ We sat down on her bed and she shook our hands, thanking us so much for taking care of her granddaughter. She was so excited to hear that the other intern and I were foreigners who came all the way over just to help out with the girls, including her own granddaughter. We explained to her that we were just beginning to teach her granddaughter English and she was catching on quickly. We explained to her the Art Therapy we were incorporating and all the good work that was being done.

Her eyes filled with tears.

Then, I looked out of her window, which overlooked the rows of soiled curtains. I saw one worker slapped in the face by a customer and she began to weep. Utter devastation was occurring right outside the Madam’s bedroom window. I remember thinking, ‘Lord, did your Grace run out?’

The Madam offered all of us a bottle of Sprite. I took it and put it back on the dresser. In this culture, it is considered rude to decline what the host gives you…and I knew it. I’d rather throw it against the wall than drink it. She looked at with me eyes of sorrow and nodded her head, as if she understood.

God decided to answer, “No, my Grace didn’t run out but yours did. Drink it. Now.”

I lifted the bottle up to my lips and felt the stinging Grace go down my throat. The Madam was very honored when I received her hospitality. That’s what giving Grace to others can be like sometimes. It may sting at first, but then it refreshes your soul.

– The following is a reflection from a 2013 summer Project Rescue intern.

Milton Peter