Spanish worship music and upbeat percussion floated through the room. Bright white lights and sunshine shone upon 14 black-haired girls as they swayed, spun, and clapped to the rhythm. A red, white, and blue Dominican Republic flag hung from the podium behind them. Fans whirled overhead, creating a breeze in the heat.
Senior Amelia Ruiz focused on the other girls. Her curly ponytail bounced as she imitated their routine. When the song ended, she smiled and waved her hands with her new friends. For her, this was an opportunity to dance for the Lord. For many of the other girls, this was a chance to express personalities that had been stifled for years.
Amelia felt the Lord calling her to serve at NHG as she applied for internships and other opportunities fell through. She mentally prepared herself for difficult experiences during the plane ride. Her first impressions of the country included stunning mountain views. Mango, almond, and avocado trees lined the streets in La Vega, the town where she would be living over the summer.
But beneath this exotic veneer, Amelia discovered a country mired in poverty and crime. The poor live in shacks on the side of the road. “You can feel there’s a sense of lawlessness,” Amelia said. She never carried her phone in her hand when she walked the streets. She knew that someone could grab it, jump on a motorcycle, and speed away.
Legalized prostitution has created an environment of frequent abuse. Cultural pressures often force a young woman to attach herself to a man early on for survival. “Women are more valued for their sex appeal than, I think, in other cultures,” Amelia said. She experienced excessive catcalling as she walked down the street.
Amelia lived in the university house, a home for high school graduates who are considering further studies. Her first weeks at NHG passed slowly. Although she spoke fluent Spanish, she struggled to understand the girls’ accents. Amelia sometimes questioned what she was even doing there.
Eventually, she found a routine. Amelia translated documents and helped with administrative tasks. She ate dinner with the girls, played volleyball with them, and attended evening devotionals. She participated in a pijamada, a sleepover spa night where the girls painted their nails and watched movies. Ruiz even taught the girls to say, “What’s up, home dog?” in English.
Yet Amelia saw pain when she looked into the girls’ eyes. Some had lived in the safe homes for 15 years and still struggled. “We don’t really talk about the stories,” Amelia said. Instead, the girls look forward. NHG encourages them to learn English and other skills so that they do not have to attach themselves to the first man who comes along in their life. “You don’t want just this little sliver,” Amelia would say to the girls. “God has so much more for you.”
Many still grappled with twisted views of themselves or others. They chose to fight this by remembering what their names mean. A girl named Luce might think of herself as a daughter of light. Valentina would remember her identity as a strong woman. “There’s not much I can do except listen and love,” Amelia said, “but that’s what they need most of the time.”
Amelia traveled with the girls to a safe location in the mountains. They rappelled down waterfalls, went white-water rafting, and hiked up a mountain. Christian volunteers from the United States prayed for the girls on the last night of camp. Because of the language barrier, the girls approached volunteers and gestured to their hearts, minds, or shoulders to indicate what they needed prayer for.
Tears streamed down the faces of both girls and volunteers. “You have two people who can’t understand each other at all,” Gigi Sellers, the other NHG intern, said, “just hugging each other and praying, and maybe their minds don’t understand what their spirit does.”
Amelia prayed for several girls before asking the volunteers for prayer. They dabbed anointing oil on her forehead. She sobbed. “I was surrendering things to the Lord that I knew he wanted me to surrender,” Amelia said. “We all need healing.” She realized that although she had not experienced what these girls had, the Lord was touching her heart and healing her own brokenness.
Amelia smiles as she remembers dancing with her friends this summer. But her look instantly turns sober when she thinks about their suffering. “You could see when girls were intentional about their worship to the Lord, when they were actually surrendering to Him,” Amelia said. “[It’s] having to choose to live in the light, even when darkness pulls you.”
This story was originally published in PHC's student-run publication, The Herald.
Patrick Henry College exists to glorify God by challenging the status quo in higher education, lifting high both faith and reason within a rigorous academic environment; thereby preserving for posterity the ideals behind the "noble experiment in ordered liberty" that is the foundation of America.