Monica Part 5

Monica fell into my arms, and she cried and cried, and finally she said, “I got too much pain on my head! I got too much pain on my heart! You gotta’ help me lady! You gotta’ help me!”

If you had been sitting with Monica and me, I’m sure your heart would have been broken. Her mother was a hooker, and she put Monica out on the streets to be a hooker before she was a teenager. Her 10-year old son was molested as a toddler, and is now in a special school under the care of a psychiatrist. Her 8-year old daughter was sexually exploited. Her 2-year old son was abused by his drug-addicted father, and her 11-year old son is in the Bloods, and carries a ’22.

Monica’s life and family was tragic! But thanks to friends like you, we were able to get her desperately needed help. The last time I saw Monica was out on Fifth Street, here on Skid Row. A tall, beautiful woman came up to me with her arms outstretched, and asked, “Do you remember me? I’m Monica.” We quickly embraced, and we both cried, as we remembered the first time we talked, there in the Skid Row alley behind the Mission.

Her eyes were clear, and she was well nourished, now that she was off the drugs. It was a painful road, but her newfound faith in Christ, and learning God’s word in a good Bible study put her life in order.

I need your help for all the other Monica’s here on the streets. “When you helped one of the least of these, you helped me.” Thank you!

P.S.

I wish I could tell you there are no more Monica’s on these streets, but sadly, she was just one of many of thousands of homeless women with children in this nation. But I beg you, please don’t get lost in the statistics, because behind each statistic is a real, live, breathing individual that desperately needs to know that God cares, and you do, too.

Blessings,

Willie Jordan