A man awoke in a brothel and was suddenly overcome with guilt, shame and a longing for a life he once knew and loved yet in a fit of despair had walked away from with deliberately calculated steps. Now, here he lay with a strange, paid woman on Christmas morning. He thought it weird that in this place, with this sin, he of all people would be here, thinking of the Christ Child, the one whom He had heard so often when growing to manhood and the Jesus whose name he had taught to his children, around the hearth.
He wondered at the subdued countenance of his mate in debauchery. What had come over her? Probably the effects of the long night of drinking and acting out passion for money or so he supposed.
She lay there wondering, "How did I get here?" She watched as the images of her life paraded before her bloodshot eyes and vividly remembered that it was not always like this. She could smell the hot chocolate and the pop corn her mother had made for the 'girls' as she and her sisters were affectionately called. There had been three, the Three Little Sisterkateers her dad had often teasingly termed them. They sure had stuck together until…The 'until' always brought pain to her, no matter the level of alcohol or crack. Not even the plush hotels in which she plied her chosen profession assuaged the ache in her heart.
When she was 13 her world came tumbling down when her daddy, so strong and good was suddenly gone, gone with the lady across the street. Her mother began searching for peace and validation, which she somehow thought was near the bottom of a bottle.
She remembered how she had prayed for her dad and mom, all seemingly to no avail. They were going their way, and the Three Little Sisterkateers were left to their own resources and soon were in foster homes. Misery, loneliness and molestation became the lot of each girl. Joy was a word in the dictionary.
As she lay there, it dawned on her, in a powerful way, as never before, that though every one in her life circle had betrayed her, yet Jesus, had seemed so wonderful from the stories she remembered. She found herself thinking, "I remember it is said that He loved people like me, even giving accounts in the Bible of girls like me finding a better hope and being forgiven." She started to weep, got up from the bed of shame, and said to the man, "I have had enough, I am going to find a church or somebody who can tell me how to get right with God!"
She did just that. A woman who "been there" told her of the Love of Jesus. This was the best Christmas she ever had. In the coming years after a time of training she told of the Love of The Babe of Bethlehem to poor ladies and children in Africa. She found that Christ took her where she was and led her to where she wanted and needed to be.