I don’t know her name, but I can’t forget her face. She
exited her room in the dingy, darkened hallway and made her way to the lobby
with the same empty, hollow expression as every other girl leaving this place.
She collected her money and started towards the street. I walked up to her and
gently handed her the golden orange rose. She is hesitant and unsure. She
accepts this gift with a small head nod and an awkward thank you. But then her
face breaks into a radiant smile that can only come in a moment of feeling
truly beautiful!

        She
slowly reads the words attached to the rose, “Jesus Lord of Lords loves you.
You are more precious than rubies and more beautiful than diamonds. You are the
apple of His eye.” She beams brighter. This
beautiful smile only lasts a few seconds before the pimp’s mocking laughter
brings her present situation crashing back down around her. Her face quickly
returns to the empty, hardened expression she previously wore. She leaves only
to return 20 minutes later with another “client”, but still clutching the rose.

            It’s
all for that brief second- that glimpse of glory- when she sees that she truly
is loved and valued. That is why we are up at 2 a.m. watching the perverse
parade of men stream into the hotel. We are waiting for that brief moment when
we can tell these 30 women, maybe for the first time, who they really are. They
are not merely prostitutes; they are beloved daughters of a God who is
desperately in love with them.