In 1993 my mother sold me for labor to a man whom was a complete stranger. He would pay my mother a lump sum of cash in exchange she give up her daughter under the false pretense I would be his sons nanny. My mother without any remorse, or further questioning of the mans sudden interest in her daughter and need for a "nanny" agreed to his terms in the darkness of night. Come morning before the fog began to lift she stuffed me in his car unbeknownst to the rest of the family whom lay sleeping in her home in Vancouver, Washington.
He would than transport me across state lines (in total 4 states: Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana) before deciding to settle down where he would harbor me in a shack he called his home, somewhere off the grid in the middle of Montana, where his true intentions became known.
I'm 42 now ... and forced to acknowledge this childhood tragedy. Only by the grace of God I've been blessed with women at my church whom graciously help me unpack all of my baggage. However, it hit me recently that not everyone is as blessed as I am to have come out of the situation somewhat okay.
It took bold courage and faith in an unseen God to get off that mountain — it also required me to make choices no child should ever be forced to make. I had to commit many crimes ranging from steeling a car and fuel to driving without a license in an old rusted out 81' Grande Prix that was not only burning oil, but had bald tires. As if a child driving a stolen car wasn't enough it was the middle of winter! I found myself forced to drive through two snow covered mountain passes, littered with cars pulled off and in the ditch, in order to escape. I also had to make the choice as to where to go once I got away — and because I had just stollen a car the local Police Department was not at the top of my list!
My hope is to share these personal stories for no reason other than to remind everyone that if it can happen to me — a small town girl — it can happen to anyone.
