From Darkness to Light: Maria Tell's Journey of Faith

Maria Tell's journey is one out of darkness into light. This survivor now gives of her time to support others in their own journeys. (Photo by Neil McDonough)

Warning: This article contains tough subject matter that may be hard for some to read.

In the dark rage of a downpour at a church in Fort Collins, a woman once screamed at a statue of Jesus, pleading for help. That woman was Maria Tell — a victim of human trafficking, clinging desperately to the hope of a way out.

Her anguished prayer was answered.

Today, Maria is not only a survivor of trafficking; she is now the founder of A Courageous Rose, a nonprofit dedicated to helping others reclaim their lives. Her story is at once one of unimaginable suffering as well as profound faith, healing and redemption.

Maria’s journey is not just a testimony of survival; it is a witness to the enduring power of Catholic faith and community to resurrect and reclaim souls from darkness.

Maria kneels in prayer at St. John XXIII Parish in Fort Collins. (Photo by Neil McDonough)

Seeds of Faith

Maria was born into the Catholic faith — a cradle Catholic, raised by a devout mother who taught her a deep reverence for the Eucharist, the power of the Rosary and to trust in the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. These seeds of faith, planted in childhood, would later become the roots she clung to through years of darkness.

“I think that’s why I’m sitting here right now, today,” Maria said. “Because of those seeds that were planted from day one.”

But that same childhood was also marked by trauma. At just four years old, Maria was trafficked by a woman running an in-home daycare in Fort Collins.

“I was a little girl going to daycare. My mom was dropping me off, I was getting picked up and I was going home,” she recalled. “There were other children there as well, and it was the same story for them.”

Despite the nice neighborhood, the predators came during the day to sexually abuse Maria and the other children. The abuse was hidden behind the façade of normalcy — no basements or chains, she said, just a suburban home where children played — and predators came and went, leaving behind scars that would shape Maria’s understanding of herself and the world.

Her mother, unaware of the exploitation, removed Maria from the daycare as soon as she learned something was wrong and immediately reported the physical abuse that was also occurring. Ashamed, Maria did not tell her mother about the sexual abuse she suffered. By the time her mother responded to what she learned, the damage had already been done.

“That left a gaping hole in my heart and set me up later to be exploited as an adult,” Maria said.

"He'd be like, 'You have to stop praying. Every time you pray, I go to jail.'" Maria Tell

The Spiral of Pain

When children experience overwhelming distress, the behaviors surrounding it can shape their responses in the future. Maria spoke of the dissociation that is common among victims, where individuals detach from their emotions, memories or even their sense of self.

“You have these things happen to you as a little girl, and then that normalizes the behavior,” Maria explained. “I was checked out because my brain was just trying to comprehend what had happened to me.”

As a teenager, Maria’s trauma manifested in rebellion — sneaking out, substance abuse and promiscuity.

“It was my way to deal with the shame and the pain,” she said. “I didn’t truly understand God’s mercy. I thought, ‘Well, if I’m going to do these things, I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this church. I belong in the streets.’”

Her cries for help were often misunderstood, and she was sent to rehab centers instead of being met with the love and affirmation she so desperately needed.

“All I needed was someone to sit down with me and tell me I was worthy of love,” she said. “People just saw a delinquent.”

In college, Maria was broke, vulnerable and searching for security.

“I was desperately seeking a man to protect me and make me feel like nothing bad was going to happen,” she explained.

She met a gang member who promised that protection and belonging, painting a picture of a life like Bonnie and Clyde — making money and facing the world together. Maria was drawn in.

What followed was years of exploitation, addiction and violence. Methamphetamine became a tool of control, administered by her abusers to ensure dependence.

“They tell you lies. When you are in it, you can’t see it,” Maria said. “They own you. They want you to think that you’re a dope fiend, a prostitute.”

As they strip their victims of their dignity, gang members can more easily exert control, she explained, noting that trafficking victims rarely understand that they are being trafficked while it is happening.

"I always prayed. Even when I was on meth, I would be praying," Maria said. (Photo by Neil McDonough)

A Flicker of Light

Even in her darkest moments, Maria never let go of prayer.

“I always prayed. Even when I was on meth, I would be praying,” she said. “I knew I was surrounded by evil, and I knew it was bad, so I would always pray Our Fathers and Hail Marys.”

Maria clung to faith, invoking the help of St. Jude, the helper of the helpless, the Blessed Mother, St. Michael the Archangel and Padre Pio. Maria attributes her safety during this time to St. Michael.

“He was that big brother that wouldn’t give up on me,” she remembered.

There were moments of divine intervention, like the time Maria prayed silently to St. Michael for help, and her trafficker was arrested minutes later.

“That was St. Michael coming for me,” she said. “The Lord comes to his lost sheep. He seeks us.”

Over time, her trafficker noticed a pattern and told Maria to stop praying.

“He’d be like, ‘You have to stop praying. Every time you pray, I go to jail,’” she explained. Maria clearly remembers thinking, “What do you think God is trying to tell us?”

Coming Home to the Church

Breaking free, Maria found her way back to Fort Collins. She’d always been drawn to the Church, but now, utterly broken, scared, with tattoos that set her apart, she did not feel welcome — at first. Only later did Maria recognize that as the enemy telling her she didn’t belong.

Maria persisted, though, returning to one, then another, local Catholic church.

On a providential night, desperate, alone and drenched in rain, in a moment of pure surrender, she screamed at a statue of Jesus outside the locked doors of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parish in Fort Collins: “You have to do something!”

And he did.

The right people were placed in Maria’s path. She found a priest — Father Michael Freihofer — who helped guide her back to the sacraments, where she encountered the grace of God.

“I did not know that the confessional can be healing,” Maria said. “The confessional is not a shame box. It’s mercy.”

Confession was a gateway to other sacraments and healing ministries, and the crucial first step in breaking the trauma bond. Father Freihofer gave her a prayer prescription and invited her to return — an invitation she joyfully accepted.

The mother of three children, Maria now gives of her time helping other women and families find their own way to the light of Christ. (Photo by Neil McDonough)

A Courageous Rose

Out of her experience came a mission. Later, when the nonprofit she worked for shut down, Maria turned to the Blessed Virgin Mary for guidance. Together, they named her new organization: A Courageous Rose. The name honors both Our Lady of Sorrows and every survivor who dares to reclaim their life.

A Courageous Rose offers survivor-led peer support, emergency assistance, boxing classes and spiritual guidance. It is a ministry rooted in Catholic values, but open to all.

“Most trafficking survivors are looking for one thing—and that’s Jesus,” Maria said.

The organization also partners with law enforcement and Homeland Security Investigations (HSI), providing a bridge between survivors and the resources they need to heal.

Catholic Practices and Community

For a survivor, each day can bring new challenges, triggers and emotions. For Maria, combatting the darkness and trauma she carries requires daily spiritual attention and renewal. Her everyday life is steeped in Catholic devotion, where she finds strength in both Catholic practices and community.

She attends daily Mass at St. John XXIII Parish in Fort Collins, a practice she calls life-changing. She has found a family at her parish and a place where she belongs.

“People asked my name, gave me hugs, they remembered me, and then, you become a part of a community, and it’s so healing in itself for all of us,” she said.

Recently, her parish family hosted a baby shower for a non-Catholic survivor at A Courageous Rose.

“Everyone from the church went all out — decorated and got her gifts and made her feel welcome,” Maria shared. “That’s what we do as Catholics, right? We love people. We celebrate life. We embrace life.”

Maria’s prayer life is full. She prays both the traditional Rosary and the Servite Rosary, focusing on the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

“She’s powerful against evil,” Maria explained. “I’m fighting evil every day in anti-trafficking work, and I need Our Lady of Sorrows with me to help me.”

Maria also prays the reparative Holy Face Chaplet and goes to Confession at least weekly, saying, “even if I don’t think I need to go, I go.”

She spends time in Eucharistic Adoration, describing it as a place of quiet strength, of presence, where the soul finds rest.

“Adoration is absolutely huge. Even if it’s just five minutes, it’s never wasted,” she said.

Maria brings survivors to Adoration, too, to sit and feel a love she says cannot be seen or measured but is there all the same.

These practices are not just rituals — they are lifelines. They are how Maria stays grounded, continues to heal and helps others do the same.

"The confessional is not a shame box. It's mercy." Maria Tell

True Freedom

For survivors of trafficking, control over their bodies, choices and even their sense of identity has been gradually and deliberately stripped away.

“When you’ve been trafficked, somebody has been making decisions for you for so many years. It’s something I still struggle with daily. There are days when the simple act of deciding what to wear is really overwhelming,” she explained.

But she speaks of a deeper kind of freedom — not the fleeting kind the world offers, but the enduring freedom found in Christ and rooted in faith.

“Being Catholic is freedom,” she said. “Freedom from all the lies that the enemy wants us to believe about ourselves and the world.”

Maria teaches survivors that true empowerment is found in Christ; in this freedom, they discover the grace to reclaim their identity. She knows this because she had to travel this path herself.

“I had to renounce those identity lies to become the woman that God meant me to be,” she shared. “Because he’s the only one that can truly tell us who we are and how he sees us.”

Not Alone

Recognizing she is no longer alone has been one of the most powerful realizations in Maria’s journey of healing. She has a community, a spiritual family and a mission. She has the nine choirs of angels, the saints, the Blessed Mother and Jesus alongside her in the anti-trafficking fight.

Maria’s favorite scripture is Matthew 25:40: “Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters, you did it for me.” It’s a verse that guides her ministry and her life.

Through A Courageous Rose, Maria Tell is doing for others what was once done for her — offering hope, healing and the love of Christ. She and other survivors at the non-profit willingly step back into the darkness to reach for the hands of those searching for the light. Their work is rooted in lived experience and a deep commitment to Catholic teaching — proof that the enduring power of faith can reach into even the darkest corners.

A Pastoral Call to Action

This global crisis demands a united response. In his 2025 pastoral message, Pope Francis urged the faithful to:

• Be “ambassadors of hope,” acting together to stand by victims and survivors.

• Draw strength from Christ to renew our commitment, even amid injustice.

• Listen with compassion to survivors and work to prevent future exploitation.

• Address root causes — war, poverty and climate change — through global and local action.

• Pray and promote initiatives that uphold human dignity and eliminate trafficking.

To read Pope Francis' Message for the Eleventh World Day of Prayer and Awareness Against Human Trafficking, click here.

To learn more or support A Courageous Rose, visit acourageousrose.org.