The following story is true, as Amy told it to me. Names have been changed to protect privacy.
When Amy was in her mama’s belly, her mom—a young, unmarried, and terrified Catholic girl—almost aborted her. As a schoolgirl, her stepfather told her repeatedly that she was stupid—mental abuse that hurt far more than any physical abuse he gave her. Today, Amy advocates before judges for children from broken homes and also works to prevent abortion. Listen. Let me tell you her story.
Amy was born in New York City, but when she was 5 years old her mother, Sandra, moved back to Guatemala City to be near her family. Life for a single mother in Guatemala was almost impossible, and since Amy was illegitimate, her grandma refused to help with her care. When Sandra met a man who “promised her everything, the world, the stars,” she agreed to move in with him. Pablo, son of a wealthy El Salvadoran family, promised to love her daughter as if she were his own, and she had no reason to doubt him.
In 1976, when Amy was 6 years old, a 7.5 magnitude earthquake struck Guatemala, killing 23,000 people and injuring 76,000 more. Thousands of people, including Amy’s family, camped out in the street for days, fearing the tremors that might follow. Life in Guatemala City grew even more difficult after that, and Sandra and Pablo decided to move to El Salvador where they would have more opportunities to get ahead.
Pablo had grown up a spoiled child, used to getting whatever he wanted. As the years passed, he moved his family from one house to another—beautiful houses with shining floors and large courtyards. However, wealth can’t buy a happy home, and Pablo frequently lost his temper: throwing glasses, breaking windows, beating Amy’s mom, throwing Amy to the floor. He taught Amy an English song naming the parts of a house, and whenever they drove into the city, he would stop on a certain bridge and threaten to throw her over if she didn’t sing that song correctly. Whether or not he would have, the threat traumatized her.
School, even though it was a strict, nun-run Catholic school, became a refuge for Amy. Worse than her stepfather’s physical abuse were the many times he told her she was dumb and wouldn’t amount to anything. In the early years of school, she had two step-siblings, a brother and sister, but Pablo didn’t give them the hard time he gave Amy. Often, when they got in trouble, they would put the blame on her. Even though the school days were long—from 7:00 in the morning to 7:00 at night—she was just glad to get away from them all. She believed she was worthless and wondered sometimes why she’d been born.
In 1980, Civil War came to El Salvador, a brutal battle that was to stretch on for 12 years. Guerrillas took over churches and schools. Amy could see soldiers walking past her house when she looked out the window. One of her teachers was killed. “You can’t be here,” her mother told her, and sent her to Guatemala to live with her maternal grandmother, an uncle, and five girl cousins—teenagers—whose parents had abandoned them. During Amy’s 6-month stay, the teen girls often touched her in her sexual parts, violating her childhood innocence—though at the time, Amy thought it must be normal. Thankfully, her parents moved to Guatemala after she’d been with her grandma for six months, and Amy left the teenagers to live with them.
However, as Amy’s body matured, she soon felt unsafe with her stepfather. “Lock the door at night,” her mother would tell her. “Don’t even go out to the bathroom.” Many nights, Amy heard someone trying to open her window, but by God’s mercy, her stepfather never got in. Often now, he would hug her, crush her to him, feeling the shape of her body. “I love you, Amy,” he would say. One terrible moment stays vividly in her memory: her parents coming out of a locked room together, Pablo zipping up his pants, her mother with an expression of fear on her face. Pablo looked at Amy. “This is what love is,” he said. But she knew it was not. She sensed, deep in her spirit, that there must be something better.
Sandra, concerned for Amy’s safety, sent her to Miami to stay with a brother. The visit served a twofold purpose. Since Amy had been born in the U.S, she could claim her residency now, before she was 18, and become a United States citizen. However, Amy soon found out that her uncle’s Cuban wife practiced witchcraft. Even though her Cuban aunt claimed her magic was “white magic,” Amy watched one seance which scared her so badly, she wrote to her mother and begged to go home to Guatemala.
In retrospect, Amy believes the Holy Spirit was already directing her conscience. A short time before traveling to Miami, she’d attended an evangelical Christian event and asked Jesus into her heart. Though she barely understood what she was doing at the time, “God works in mysterious ways” and had already placed his light in her spirit before she traveled to the U.S.
After only a month or two in Miami, Amy returned to Guatemala. She had four step-siblings by this time. Her stepfather was making a lot of money. He bought the latest cars, expensive models like Mercedes Benz and Porsche, and hid them behind locked metal gates, as is common in Central America. Frequently, when he took the family to visit El Salvador, he would start the trip in one vehicle and return with a different one.
That year, Amy’s mother planned a huge celebration for Amy’s 16th birthday, since Amy had been in the U.S. on her 15th birthday and missed the traditional quinceañera. Pablo was away from home at the time and arrived unexpectedly while the party was in full swing. When he walked in and saw the huge celebration going on, the house filled with people, he exploded in anger. That night, he beat up Amy’s mom badly with his fists.
“Mom, you can’t live like this, anymore,” Amy told her mom afterwards. She was 16 now, and rather than being a scared child who froze when Pablo abused her, had learned to think for herself and to express an opinion. “You’ve got to get out. I will help you. We’ll do whatever it takes, but you don’t have to be with this man.
Shortly afterward, Pablo told Sandra a business partner had threatened to kill him over a business deal, and he needed to leave. “Stay with the neighbors, because he’s going to come here,” he instructed. Sandra and her children stayed with the neighbors a few nights and then returned to their home.
“Mom, we’ve gotta get out,” Amy told her again. “This is terrible.” Sandra agreed.
The next morning, when they opened the door to go grocery shopping, policemen and FBI agents stood on their doorstep.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Read the rest of Amy’s story next week! Her story joins a series of posts I call In Every Life a Story. I publish a new post for this series every 6 – 10 weeks. Do you have a story or know of someone who has a story to encourage and inspire others? Contact me at lucindajkinsinger@gmail.com. Although many stories will feature Christian themes, I hope to hear from people of many faiths and persuasions. Whoever you are, please get in touch.
Feature photo by Lavina Martin.