welcome to the streets of NYC, 1994

The following is something a chapter from a book I found at a used bookstore, Am I Going to Heaven?: The Shocking Story of America's Street Kids. It was written by a nun from Covenant House, a place that took kids off the street. Read it from the perspective of 1994, when it was written.

"On the street I saw a girl cold and shivering in a thin dress, with little hope of a decent meal. I became angry and said to God, 'Why did you permit this? Why don't you do something about it?' For a while God said nothing. That night He replied quite suddenly: 'I certainly did something about it. I made you.'"

....
Chapter 13, May 1994
"She sauntered over to the van, hips swaying in her short white shorts, acting cooler than cool.
But her eyes betrayed her. There was nothing happy inside them.
'Can't get too excited about nothin' when you're out on the street, man,' she said.
'It's really good to see you, Bernetta,' we said.
We all felt like just throwing our arms around her that first night, but we couldn't. Bernetta was like a skittish colt, and the last thing we wanted to do was scare her off. We were determined to take things slow.
So was she. At first, all she would accept was a cup of lemonade. Then she'd head back to 25th and 9th, the corner of New York City her pimp owned...all pimps have their 'territory'...and hustle for the rest of the night.
But after a few visits, Bernetta began to stay a little longer. Sometimes, she'd accept a cheese sandwich. And slowly, she began to reveal a little more of herself.
In fact, getting to know Bernetta was like peeling layers off an onion. Including the tears.
'I was already 'broken in' before I got to the city,' she said one night, shrugging her shoulders. 'My step-dad, he raped me the first time when I was nine.
'Then, whenever he had a little to drink, he'd come creeping into my bedroom, late at night.
'One night, I tried putting a chair up against the door to keep him out. It worked pretty good. But the next day, he was so mad, he smashed that chair to bits, and gave me a black eye.
'He told me if I ever said a word, he's hurt me bad. Course, he already had....'
Her voice trailed off and she looked inside our van, blinking furiously to drive back the teardrops that hung precariously in the corner of each eye.
She shook her head and swallowed hard.
'After a few years, I left. But I couldn't do nothin', I never finished school. I couldn't get a job.
'Then I met Freddie (her pimp). He told me there was only one thing in the world I knew how to do, and if I wanted to stay alive on the streets, I better do what I know best.
'I guess he was right,' she said, smiling ruefully.
'He's not right, and don't you believe it,' we said furiously. We could tell Bernetta was startled. That's why we usually try not to let kids see our anger.
But sometimes we can't help it.
These young girls come from across America to New York City, looking to escape from men...fathers, brothers, friends, men they loved and trusted...who have stolen their innocence and shattered their dreams.
By the time they get onto the streets, their self-esteem could fit onto the head of a pin.
Then their pimp tells them that they're good for nothing, that they deserve nothing--and that tiny speck of self worth disappears. Or turns into self loathing. Or gets buried in some deep, secret place.
'Bernetta, we want you to come back to Covenant House with us.' Her eyes clouded over with fear.
'I can't. Freddie would kill me. He doesn't even know I talk to you guys. I can't, I just can't.'
She began to sob.
'You know where Covenant House is?' we asked. She nodded. 'You have one of our cards?' She nodded again.
We touched her hand. 'We're going to say an extra prayer for you.' (We didn't know then just how much she would need that prayer.)
She smiled through her tears and headed back to her corner of hell.
A few nights ago, the van swung by the corner of 25th and 9th, as we always do. We were really hoping to see Bernetta.
But when we got to the corner and started to pull up to the curb, Bernetta frantically waved us back.
Then she turned on her heel and started walking in the opposite direction.
We pulled away and headed down the street. But we were uncomfortable. And not a little scared. Something was very, very wrong.
So we turned the corner and headed back up the block. When we got there, I saw why Bernetta had tried to warn us off.
Her pimp held her against the wall with one arm. With the other, he punched and slapped her across the face and screamed obscenities.
'Who do you think you're talking to in that van, girl? You want to talk, you talk to me!'
When he spotted the van, he grabbed Bernetta by the hair and dragged her out of sight.
We drove after Bernetta and her pimp, but they escaped down a narrow alleyway.
A few hours later we came back to find her. She was back on the corner. But when we tried to come near, she shook her head and waved us away.
That was a few nights ago.
I think about Bernetta all the time. I think about her sad, empty eyes, and hope that there's still a twinkle hidden deep inside. Mostly, I hope she hung on to that card.
And I pray that God will show her the way to our door.
What I would like to ask this month is that you add your prayers to mine. Pray that Bernetta looks deep into her heart and finds that little speck of self-esteem that I know is buried there.
Pray that she has the strength to take the biggest step of her life...away from her pimp, away from the street, and onto the steps of the only place in New York City where she can be safe--Covenant House.
I described Bernetta to all our staff members, and asked them to let me know when she arrives, whether it's 6 o'clock in the morning or midnight.
Because I want to be there at the door to greet her, and tell her how glad I am she came.
My friend, I hope she does make it to our door. With your prayers, and a little help from Him, I think she will."

Once again, the previous was an excerpt from Sr. Mary Rose McGeady's Am I Going to Heaven?: The Shocking Story of America's Street Kids-- an eye-opening look at lifestyles that surround you, but that you may not often consider.

So, how bad was your day, again?

Keep life in perspective. Keep others in your prayers.

Perhaps you have a role to play in helping someone out that's in an ugly situation?