Sarsa

The wedding was a simple one. There was no celebratory recessional for the couple. No music, no laughter. Just the long walk to their modest home. “I love you,” Juan said along the way. In return, Sarasa could only smile. It would be a long time before she could reciprocate such words of affection. The next morning, Sarasa dashed to the telephone. “Mother, I got married yesterday — so, in a few months, you can send the children to me,” she said, her voice breaking with joy. Two years earlier, a cousin had offered Sarasa a plane ticket and a high-paying job in a restaurant. “You will make enough money in six months that you can move your family to a nice home and enroll your kids in a decent school,” Enrique promised. Enrique met Sarasa when her plane landed, and, together, they began the drive to her new home.
When Enrique pulled into a parking stall and picked up two men, Sarasa was confused. As he sped away, he said, “If you make any disturbance, we will kill you and your children. Now give me your passport!”

One of the men in the backseat blindfolded her and put duct tape on her mouth. For two hours the car zigzagged until it finally came to a halt. The two men dragged her up a flight of stairs before ripping the duct tape and blindfold from her face. “You will pleasure the men I bring you,” Enrique informed her. For six months, she never left the apartment. Men cycled through each day as if it were a buffet line, leaving Sarasa on the verge of an emotional breakdown. If not for my children, she told herself, I would have no reason to live. One night, Juan walked into the apartment. Like the other men, he had paid to have sex with Sarasa. But, unlike the others, he treated her with respect. “I’ve been talking to the owners of this place and have asked if
I could buy your freedom, so you can come and live with me.” 

“I will not be free until I’m reunited with my children,” Sarasa said defiantly.

“After we are married, we will send for them,” Juan promised. Although married to a man she didn’t love, Sarasa was filled with anticipation for the day her children would leap into her arms.
Juan had rescued her and given her a home. That was enough to earn Sarasa’s gratitude and devotion — but she couldn’t forget he was once her “customer.” One afternoon, a woman sat down beside her. They would meet again and again … in the same place. Soon, Sarasa shared her story. “I know some people who can help you deal with your pain,” the woman said. “It is called Project Rescue. Here is the phone number.” The decision to pick up the phone and call that number was the beginning of Sarasa’s journey to hope and healing. Sarasa began to receive counseling and her bouts with depression waned, and then she found healing in a relationship with God. Sarasa shared her experience of restoration with her husband. Juan remains devoted to Sarasa and together they are raising their children to know God.