She’s brilliant. Truly brilliant. Her thick accent and search for English words hides the knowledge hidden inside her beautiful blue eyes. Large eyes. Large eastern European eyes with thick lashes resting above her highly defined cheekbones. We laughed together and sipped thick Mediterranean tea out of paper cups to keep us warm from the cold Greek air.

She didn’t talk about her past, but I was aware of the pain, darkness, and fear hidden deep within her chest.

She asked if we could practice English since no one knew cool American phrases at the A21 shelter. Peace out, she said in a Russian accent and laughed like a school boy who eavesdropped on an inappropriate joke. She was giddy and happy and joyful; the true person she was created to be—the person resurrected from the grave.

The Ukrainian girl with deep blue eyes and high cheekbones was more than a beautiful face with a sad story. She was dead and has come back to life. She was gone and has been found. She was lost but now is home.

Home. A word foggy in her imagination. Countryside upbringing in a impoverished rural province, the Russian girl with porcelain skin studied diligently and rose to the top of her class. She received scholarships to travel internationally to study and learn foreign languages, learn architectural design, and gain a wide academic perspective of education. In university she was a stellar student. On track to graduate with honors, she decided to help her family by looking for a summer job in Greece.

Three months of work in the European Union would help her countryside family for almost a year. The brilliant—the truly brilliant—student accepted a job offer in Greece as a waitress. But instead of waiting on tables, she was forced to wait on men as a prostitute in a brothel.

Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. The brilliant girl with deep blue eyes slowly began to lose the memory of home, the hope of education, and the will to survive. The brilliant—truly brilliant—student had been deceived and trafficked like millions of other woman who are forced to live in the dark abyss know as modern-day slavery.

Sipping our tea and practicing slang, she paused and told me she wanted to go back to university and be normal again. She wanted to study and learn and laugh like she used to. She wanted to see her family and friends and dream again… like she used to. I sat in silence because some moments cannot be changed with words. She let her dream hang in the air and I watched her sigh with hope.

The eager student wanted to study so I called Matt from my hotel room and asked him if we could order a Russian-English language set for Christmas. It’ll be sent out next week. How ironic: God is using the girl who couldn’t read or spell in English to help someone learn English.

November 10th, 2012

Everywhere. I looked everywhere for her. I walked into The A21 Shelter expecting to see her face or hear her voice, but she’s gone.

Where is she? She’s home! The foggy place she was loosing memory of… home. In my mind’s eye, she’s hugging her mom and kissing her dad and playing with her siblings. She has her books—her school books—on a shelf ready to head back to college because she’s brilliant. Truly brilliant.

Katya* was repatriated home after residing in the shelter and aftercare of The A21 Campaign. Our lawyers represented her on all legal fronts and was able to ensure her safety back home. She has returned to university and is studying—get this—ENGLISH. She said she would like to come back and work for A21 so she can help girls like her rebuild and redeem their lives through the power of language. Peace out! 😉

*Names are changed to protect the identity of our survivors.