Filtered by Tag: #CasaEsperanza
For years, Marlene was trapped in sexual exploitation far from home. Fear overtook her when a friend from the brothel was murdered. Bolivia has one of the highest femicide rates in the world; every three days a woman is murdered, and women in prostitution face an even higher risk.
Read MoreWhen Andrés invited us to Casa Esperanza, there was so much distrust that few of us accepted. Some went only for the material help but others went because we wanted out, we wanted to see if someone could do something for us, if someone could help us leave the brothels or at least give us hope.
Read MoreOn October 3, 2003 The House of Hope opened its doors as a place of hospitality and care. We began by simply building relationships, listening to stories & sharing some of our own.
Read MoreThese days, as a result of our stellar team’s relentless visits to the streets and health centers, a new woman shows up at the Casa de Esperanza every day on average.
Read MoreLa Casa de Esperanza still overlooks Carrasco Street and stands as a profound testimony of God’s power and faithfulness!
Read MoreI didn’t know that a place as special as the “House of Hope” existed. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this place is magnificent. This place not only managed to change the way I think but also my way of acting. I really don’t know how to express myself well, I can’t get the right words out in order to say that the “House of Hope” is a special place for me.…
Read MoreIt’s not uncommon for our therapeutic groups or conversations with the amigas to get interrupted by the inner battle that they face daily — shortened breath, uncontrollable crying, dissociation, anxiety attacks, loss of hope…and so we make space.
Read MoreEvery superhero has a tragic origin story, but Wanda's is absolutely horrific.
Read MoreSubsisting in the middle of urbanity, no one knew how she and her 3 children were suffering: a single mother prostituting, pregnant from gang rape, cooking on an open fire, and all 4 sleeping on one small mattress on the floor.
Read More“Sometimes,” she said, “You can come home from brothel visits and take it in stride. Other times, the harshness of what they face night after night, and how we can just walk away at the end of the visit, hits home and the gulf between us feels overwhelming.“
Read MoreOn a chilly Wednesday evening, a small team made its weekly visit to the red-light district, and met Vanessa.* At 28 y/o, she had resorted to prostitution a few months prior to make ends meet for her two young sons.
Read MoreIn the red-light district a block from our ministry center, there are 500 beds. As we do every Christmas, we enter each of the fourteen brothels there donning Santa Claus hats and proclaiming the gospel through Christmas carols. The administrators were, as always, remarkably accepting; some even genuinely enjoying the cheerful invasion. One administrator in particular pulled us aside and told our staff, "I've got a girl who's not doing well. Think she's about to die."
Read MoreAlthough she visited our ministry center years ago, she wasn’t quite ready for change. But when she hit rock bottom, she knew where to turn for help.
Read MoreI felt my soul pierced. In a physical sense, it took my breath. This was someone else’s baby, born into the world through pain and sweat and love - as special and treasured as my own daughter who was at home with a caregiver. I felt the weight of indignation descend upon me. I was witnessing a lamentable injustice, and unfortunately a common one both near and far – a child’s true identity lost.
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