By Susan Ernst

People often assume that a book about sex trafficking will be dark, overwhelming, or frightening. I understand that hesitation. Parts of this story are difficult to hear. And yet, Called to Serve: Standing with Survivors and Protecting Children Still at Risk was not written to shock or sensationalize. It was written to bear witness—to love and to the quiet, sacred moments that happen when we show up for one another.

I wrote this book because I was invited to serve.

Over the course of five years, I traveled with a small team of volunteers to a confidential rescue center for children who had been trafficked or were at high risk of exploitation. We came not as experts, but as ordinary people willing to be present—to play, to listen, to hold space, and to love without conditions. What I witnessed during those ten-day trips changed me forever.

Yes, there was heartbreak. But there was also laughter. There was healing through play. There were moments of deep connection. In the middle of chaos—children tugging at our hands, bursting with energy and joy—I often felt something else entirely: a quiet sense of purpose, a reminder that love itself can be a powerful force for healing.

This book is a reflection of those experiences.

Called to Serve weaves together personal reflections, stories from the volunteer team, and practical insights for anyone who feels drawn to help but doesn’t know where to begin. It is both memoir and invitation. I wanted to show readers that you don’t need special credentials to make a difference—only a willingness to show up with humility, courage, and compassion.

At the same time, I don’t shy away from the truth. Child exploitation is real. It exists globally and closer to home than many of us want to believe. Learning about it can be uncomfortable—and sometimes it should be. Discomfort can be a doorway to awareness, and awareness can lead to action.

That is my call to action.

I’m not asking readers to do everything. I’m asking them not to look away. Whether that means learning the signs of grooming, supporting organizations doing ethical work, volunteering in appropriate ways, advocating for prevention, or simply having braver conversations—every step matters.

If this conversation, this podcast, or this book stirs something in you, I hope you’ll listen to that inner nudge. Service changes us. Standing with survivors reminds us of our shared humanity. And protecting children still at risk is not someone else’s responsibility—it belongs to all of us.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for listening. And thank you for caring enough to take the next step.

Susan L. Ernst, Author

Advocate for Children’s Safety and Freedom