Cinderella Story

"I'll tell you one thing: She's a Christian woman — I'll tell you that," says the short, middle-age Hispanic woman from her doorway, folding her arms across her chest and glancing at the pretty, well-kept house next door.

She's speaking about her neighbor, 51-year-old Haitian-American Maude Paulin, who was recently charged with, among other things, forced labor — slavery. It's not the kind of word you'd associate with the town of Cutler Bay, the South Miami-Dade city where both women live. Wedged between seemingly endless swampland to the east and west, and eerie stretches of half-built cookie-cutter McMansions to the south, the town is an outpost of solidly middle-class, solidly banal suburbia. Its population is three-quarters white, generally middle-age. Its residents are not particularly rich — the median income is about $50,000.

Generally speaking, Cutler Bay is the first rung on the long ladder to ex-urban paradise. Every evening, cars turn off Old Cutler Road and onto the town's sleepy streets, fill up the spacious driveways, and remain there until morning, when they head back north toward Miami. It isn't fancy, but it's peaceful, and that's the point.

Imagine the surprise then, on April 4, 2007, when FBI agents showed up at a quiet house here and arrested Maude and her mother, Evelyn Theodore, at their home at 19705 SW 87th Pl. Two others — Maude's sister, Claire Telasco, and Saintfort Paulin, Maude's ex-husband — were picked up elsewhere.

The four are charged with various felonies for bringing Simone Celestine, a 14-year-old orphan, into the United States illegally to work as an unpaid domestic servant. According to the indictment, Simone was beaten with closed fists, forced to shower outside with a garden hose, rented to other homes, and not allowed to attend school. All four suspects have pleaded not guilty. The case goes to trial in October. If convicted, Maude Paulin and Evelyn Theodore could face up to 40 years in jail, the others slightly less.

Human trafficking is a buzzword these days in federal law enforcement. The U.S. Department of State estimates that up to 800,000 people are illegally brought across international borders every year. Eighty percent of them are female, and 50 percent are minors. The overwhelming purpose of such trafficking is human slavery. In its press release describing the Paulins' indictment, the Department of Justice eagerly pointed out that since 2001, it has charged more than 300 alleged human traffickers and secured more than 200 convictions.

This case, however, has a uniquely Haitian spin. In the island nation, poor relatives — or sometimes children of other families — taken in as domestic servants are known as restaveks. In 2002 the National Coalition for Haitian Rights, a New York human rights group, released a study that estimated one in 10 children in Haiti is a restavek. The group calls it slavery. The practice remains largely confined to Haiti but in some cases has been discovered in the United States. In 1999 a Pembroke Pines family was accused of beating, raping, and enslaving a 12-year-old girl brought from the island. Homeowner Willy Pompee Jr. fled to Haiti before trial.

In the case of the house on SW 87th Place, the only resident not charged is Maude's daughter Erica, only two years older than Simone. If the allegations are true, it's something of a Cinderella story — a daughter who was well treated and a servant who was not.

Maude Paulin, who is a teacher at Campbell Drive Middle School in Homestead, was born Maude Theodore in Haiti in October 1955. Her resumé says she attended college and then seminary in Port-au-Prince. She came to the United States between 1979 and 1981 and moved to South Miami, where she held various secretarial positions for 10 years before earning an associate's degree at Miami-Dade Community College.

Saintfort and Maude Paulin were married May 17, 1983, according to public documents. Five months later Maude gave birth to Erica. The three lived at 12601 SW Eighth Ave. until 1991, when Saintfort filed for divorce. Eventually the Paulins changed their mind, court records show.

Saintfort, Maude, and Maude's mother, Evelyn, busied themselves with affairs in Haiti, where they apparently oversaw the funding and management of the D'Amitie orphanage. It's located in Ranquitte, a mountain town of 25,000 people with no electricity, no phone service, and citizens who are among the poorest in the Western Hemisphere.

Maude and Erica — as well as two other women, whom New Times was unable to reach — are the registered officers of Diomede D. Theodore Foundation, Inc., located in Homestead, which — its Website shows — is associated with the D'Amitie orphanage. The Website also claims the organization is a tax-exempt charity, but an IRS spokesman says it is not. (The foundation did not respond to a message left by phone).