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From Stephanie Fisk, this heart-breaking story:     It was the typical story. A family of 6. The mom left for work two years ago and disappeared somewhere in Kazakastan. I assumed a case of human trafficking. The dad was a shepherd and an alcoholic. The 13 …
By Seth Barnes
From Stephanie Fisk, this heart-breaking story:

 
 slobozia 101
It was the typical story. A family of 6. The mom left for
work two years ago and disappeared somewhere in Kazakastan. I assumed a
case of human trafficking. The dad was a shepherd and an alcoholic. The
13 year old was left to take care of her
younger brother and two sisters.   They
were awaiting the return of their mom. She was going to rescue them. 
 
slobozia 089
slobozia 107 
 
They slept above the stove and on a dirty mattress right
beside the cat and her three kittens. Brightly
colored bandanas covered uncombed, lice infected curls. Blackened pots and pans with weeks old,
molded food sat on top of the broken chest. Mounds of clothes were strewn across the dirt floor. The smell of
dampened hopes hit me as I entered the room. Through the streaked windowpane, a single beam of light cast a spotlight
on the shattered dreams that hung defeated on the broken bed frame. I could not shake the feeling that something
ugly had taken place in here before. 
 
slobozia 116 
We cleaned. We
burned, a lot. We cut hair and gave
bathes. We painted doors blue and tore
down cracked walls. Then the mom came
home. True story. The reality was the mom standing in front of
me, holding her 3 year old daughter. The
kid hung on to her mom as though she knew her. The mom had the opposite
affect on the 13 year old. Did the mom really just reappear after two
years? And ironically during the time the church was coming to their
aid? Was she trafficked in the past? What was the
true story? 
 purple shoe warm 
girl blurry
 
 
 
 
I do know she cried. Actually, she wailed. She also
yelled. While I do not know the whole
truth of what was happening before my eyes, I do know there was pain and
brokenness. There was desperation and
separation. I wish that I could wrap up
this ‘story’ for you so it could be beautifully wrapped with a happy ending,
but I cannot. I do know that the church
body in Slobozia is still working on the house and the mom is present. But other than that, the memory remains fresh
and continues to paint a very real picture in my spirit of life in
Moldova.  

 

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