Every girl in our care had walked into Freetown wearing some form and expression of shame. Across the board. It was true of all of them. It had been put there by someone else and wrapped around them like a blanket. Not only had it clothed them, but it had become their identity. But by nature and by design, life at Freetown swapped out that blanket for something new. Something that fit. Something they wanted to wear. Something that said, “I am beautiful. I am one in a billion. And I am priceless.”
