Okay, so Mark and I went to this documentary film (at Celebration North) this week called “Call and Response” that was about slavery around the world today and how there are exponentially more slaves in the world today (a great many of them sex slaves–and so many of these little girls no older than my own daughter) than in the past when slavery was legal in America and other countries. And let me tell you, it is keeping me up at night. My mind is racing with the possibilities of what can be done for these children forced to live the horrible existence of human commodity for someone’s financial gain.
Recently I read a book compiled of slave accounts–these being written mostly by American slaves during the 1800′s. Ever since I traveled to Virginia with Mark several years ago, and came across a book called “The Slave Narratives” I have been interested in the history of slavery and what slaves conditions were, in their own words. A strikingly sad situation that we can now look back on and say “I’m glad that’s over.” But after watching this movie and hearing a quote from one of the modern day “abolitionists” about there being “no need to feel wistful about the past [wishing you had a part in the Civil Rights movement of the '60s because of the great a noble cause it was] because the opportunity still exists today. The slaves of today need justice and freedom…but they have no voice of their own.”
Wow, I am undone.
If, in the span of a lifetime we in America have witnessed the downfall of Jim Crow and the raising of one of its past victims to the highest seat of power in our land, what could be possible for those without a voice today all across the world who so desperately need someone to care? As I watched this film and saw the little girls, I couldn’t help but see the face of my own daughter. And I realized that for me to do nothing is unthinkable.
There was once a man walking along the beach just as low tide was showing itself on the shoreline. The beach was mostly abandoned, but the man did notice a small girl walking up and down the shore. As he got closer the man could see that the girl was picking up beached starfish throwing them into the water before they dried out and died. The man looked about the shoreline–there hundreds of starfish on that beach as far as the eye could see. The girl seemed to be hardly making a dent. The man couldn’t stop himself from asking the question of her “Little girl, there are hundreds of starfish on this beach. How can you make a difference?” The little girl calmly looked up at the man as she held up a bright red starfish, “It makes a difference to this one.” she said, and flung it into the sea.
