The woman stood in front of the church to tell her story. She had never spoken to such a large group before. I was in the auditorium “by chance” that day. I had come to hear my grandchildren sing. But an extended conversation in the hallway meant I missed my intended purpose that day.
An hour later, I was on my way home knowing I had been there for a reason very different from the one I had planned.
Her story drew me in. She had been pregnant for the second time. She spent weeks in bed nurturing a baby her doctors told her would never survive. And even if the child did survive, it would never walk, never be normal.
(“It”? Such an awful word when referring to a human being.)
She should have an abortion now, they said. She fought the doctors. She finally found one who wanted to help her–to help her baby survive. Continue reading “Revisiting the Price to Our Humanity”
Revisiting the Price to Our Humanity
