The same week I start going to church, Debra and her girlfriend Simonette both dye their light hair black, run away from home and I’m concerned they are being sexually abused. 

When Debra finally returns, I breathe a sigh of relief; she is safe and, when I see her, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close (in the way that she has comforted me so many times). 

“I have found the Lord,” I tell her excitedly. “I’ve put down drugs for good.”

“Will you help me,” she asks imploring, “so I can also be free of the drugs?” 

Together we pray.