The following is a Letter to the Editor in the Charles City Press. I wrote this last year during Sanctity of Life week. It received so many responses I chose to bring it here.

I held him in my arms, and knew that I could never let him go. My own child, so perfect, and looking straight up at me with round brown eyes, as if to say hello. Cradled in my weary arms, and blanketed by tears, I kissed him more than once and prayed for God to somehow, some way; let me be his mother. But when I handed him over to his new family; I thought God must not have heard. Raped nine months before, I suffered all alone. Pregnant, lost, abandoned, I walked the path; alone. Now, here, and saying good-bye to a child I never wanted to give away; I left again alone.

If only someone would see me. If only someone would hold me and make everything okay. If only . . . if only I weren't alone.

___________________________________

The room, white walled and sterile, filled beyond occupancy with girls age twelve on up; had a scent of death and devastation. I shivered, though I had a coat wrapped hard against me, and listened to a young child beg her mother to please take her home. I watched a couple sit together, and saw her tears fall un-noticed by her boyfriend. His foot tapped on the grey carpet, his decision, he'd decided, was the only way to go.

I was not the only one sitting, waiting for my turn, alone. And I listened as the souls of every girl, together with my own; cried out for someone, anyone, to come and take them from this place.

I didn't have to undress, there would be no white paper robe. And too quickly, before a second thought could tempt me to run; the machine whirred into action and my screams were the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

I had come carrying my child, and now only two hours later; I left alone.

______________________________________________

I can't take it anymore, not the crying nor the desperate need. I just want to walk away, to leave her even if for a moment. I need to breathe, I need help. I can't do this anymore. My food stamps are gone, my milk has dried up, I have no where to go, and she won't stop crying.

And then I watched her blow out her candles on her fifth birthday, and I realized that I'd missed everything important up till now. I close my eyes and try to remember what she looked like, when she first crawled, or what her first word was; but nothing comes to my memory but the screams, both hers and mine.

If only I'd had help. If only I weren't alone. She blows them out in one small breathe and smiles up at me, "Mommy, do you wanna know what I wished for?" I try to smile, but what I really want is to take her in my arms and seep back into the years before and change it all around. "What sweetheart, what do you wish for?" But instead of hearing her innocent voice, it is my own that whispers softly, "I wish that I hadn't been alone . . ."

______________________________________________

These three stories are true. And they each have one very real thing in common. They are me. One girl, with a desperate need for help. As Sanctity of Life week, along with the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade comes to the forefront of newspapers and radio shows; please remember what you've just read. It's not a war. Nor is it a religious battle. It is not politics. It is not a black and white comparison, and it is not only about the lives of unborn babies.

It's about that young girl in those three stories, and how her story is the same story that many of us tell, or will tell eventually. If you want to make a stand, then make one. Open your arms, and I guarantee she'll offer up her heart. Love the girl who stands alone, not by judgment or because you want to fix the wrongs she's done. Love her simply. And please, without politics or taking sides, just do for her what you would want done for you if it were you . . . all alone.

but I am just one girl and I have

but one request

5,500 abortions are done in the coarse of only one day.

but I am just one girl and I have no

other way.

Remember the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade.

but what will come of me, should I

decide to seal my fate?

Christian Coalition,

but I'm ashamed of my condition.

Pro-life has taken to the streets,

but why won't anyone listen?

why won't you help me?

They fight to save the lives of un-born babies,

all the while, she hides alone and cries,

for she is but one girl, one small piece of a great big world,

pregnant and afraid, choosing;

but what I really want is simply to go home.

Please, let's not leave her out there all alone.

No matter what she decides,

she too has the right to life.