Amy’s Story: Part One
Uncategorized | December, 04, 2013 | by Nancy Alcorn 0 Comments

Amy graduated from our St. Louis program several years ago. This young woman was so broken we would often find her wound up in a fetal position or screaming in her sleep from nightmares. Love truly is walking with people through the hard times, and with Amy, we just had to let her know she was safe.

Amy’s story is heartbreaking, but she gave us permission to relay it to you. When Amy was eight years old, her mother was taken out of the picture, and her father was given full custody. He began to dress her up in outfits and take her to parties where she would be the entertainment for his friends. This continued until Amy was about ten.

Now, I grew up on a Tennessee farm, and I remember how the neighboring farmers would grow their vegetables and fruit, then put them in the back of their pickup truck and go from neighborhood to neighborhood. We called this peddling, and I loved when the peddlers came because their food was so good.

Anyhow, when Amy was about ten, her father started peddling her from neighborhood to neighborhood. He had a van, a mattress in the back, and a pair of handcuffs. He would take his daughter from neighborhood to neighborhood, and he would say, “Okay Joe, you have fifteen minutes.” Joe would pay him, and her Daddy would stand there till Joe was done, and then another would come, and they would keep coming until that neighborhood had bought all they wanted. Then Amy’s dad would drive to the next neighborhood. This is what that man did with his own daughter.

When Amy was thirteen, her father sold her to another man who forced her to make pornographic films. She was held captive, and that went on from the time she was thirteen until twenty-one. One day when her guards became distracted, she managed to run away and get to a main highway. Amy’s grandparents lived several hundred miles away, and they’d always been told she had run away. Somehow, Amy remembered where they lived, and a trucker took her to their home. Her grandparents were amazed she was alive, and they took her to their church where she was told about Mercy Ministries.

Amy was one of Mercy’s first true “trafficking” victims. Jane Hammond ministered during this time, and Amy was very resistant to be around her. She would shake while Jane was praying because she was as afraid of faith as she was of her trauma. I sat with her in the back of the room and kept saying, “You don’t have to get prayer if you don’t want to. I’ll sit right back here with you, or if you want to sit out in the hall, we’ll sit out in the hall.” We had to meet her where she was because she had no reason to trust anybody; but, little by little, like a baby, we spoon fed her the Word. When she spit it out, we would put it back in. She spit it out; we would put it back in. Pretty soon, she started swallowing a little bit of it. After watching Jane minister to all the other girls for a couple of days, Amy looked at me. She was so afraid, but she said, “I think I want her to pray for me.” Amy went up to Jane, and it was like God spoke right into it. Jane said, “You need to know that what happened to you was not your fault.” Jane didn’t know any of Amy’s past, but God just spoke right into the heart of it. That was the beginning.


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