The Beginning

As a child, Saloni lived beside the road with her mother and siblings in a makeshift home of cardboard and tarps.

Her mother, a victim of sexual slavery, was forced into daily exploitation in the horrors of the city’s brothels. As a young girl, Saloni was subject to the abuse that accompanies such dangerous, vulnerable conditions.

Saloni’s mother met Project Rescue at their Outreach Center in the heart of the city’s notorious red-light district. At the center, staff members do the hard, painstaking work of creating no-strings-attached relationships with victims and traffickers. They offer medical care, counseling, day care, vocational training, bible study, and sometimes simply a quiet place to escape the brutality for a few moments.

In the midst of long-term relationships, they're able to demonstrate the possibility of a different, better life and offer rescue and restoration.

At the Outreach Center, Salomi’s mother discovered hope for her daughter. She made the difficult choice to entrust Saloni’s care to the team at the Home of Hope, believing her daughter would have a better future in a safe place where she could grow and flourish.

At the Home of Hope, for the first time Saloni found security in a place of her own. She had her very own bed. She could go to school. Saloni learned about Jesus and became a follower of Christ.

Saloni has continued to grow in her faith and accept God’s healing from the trauma she experienced. Because of her faithful “aunties” at the home she is learning what it means to follow Jesus and to live in authentic hope and freedom.

Saloni dreams of being a clothing designer and owning her own boutique one day. She is smart, honest, and loves the Lord. She knows she is loved, accepted, and valued. She has a place to grow into a thriving and beautiful young woman.

Lockdown

This comes from one of the “aunties,” the loving women who care for the girls at the Home of Hope. She describes a monthly “parents’ meeting,” an opportunity for the kids to meet with their families (mostly moms) under security and supervision.

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Today was a beautiful day. After many days in COVID lockdown, the children and parents were finally able to meet for the first time in four months. The bus ride to the park was filled with excitement.

Due to COVID, we maintained physical distancing, wore masks, no hugs allowed. Can you imagine how difficult this was for mothers and children? It was so hard to watch, especially the little ones, but they all managed and enjoyed the time together.

As we walked into the park, we sensed a familiar apprehension: “Will my mom or dad be there?”

Some of the children were sad because they already knew the answer – like Saloni, whose mom passed away six months ago. Still, she hoped to see her stepfather and youngest brother. But they were not there.

My heart ached at the heaviness that settled on her face. I longed to take it away, but she didn’t need anyone to fix it. This is her journey and she needed space to walk through it. I stood next to her, taking in the moment, being with her in it.

As we stood in silence she whispered, “He didn’t come....” Her voice trailed off for a few seconds. “My father didn’t come.” I nodded and acknowledged her disappointment.

After a few minutes I said, “Doesn’t the Lord speak about this?” Immediately, Saloni spoke up, “Psalm 27:10.” It didn’t register right away that she was quoting the exact reference – she knew it by heart.

With boldness she said, “Even if my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will take me up. He will adopt me and make me His own.”

I was stunned. She didn’t miss a beat. We stood there meditating on those words. The Lord was beside her even in these moments. He would never forsake her. She was “His own.”