The evening was comfortably warm. The heat of the day had subsided and a breeze blew through our back yard. We sat around the fire with friends. Some of the kids roasted marshmallows while others played frisbee. Since my three-year old needed a bathroom, I took her inside. She chatted about the fun she was having with “fwiends” but when we opened the door to go back outside, she suddenly stopped. “Mom!” she said, her voice full of awe. “It’s almost night time!” I followed her gaze. The trees had turned to silhouettes, the sky a purplish blue. “Look at the staws!” she pointed.
Sometime ago my friend from the Netherlands asked if she’d be able to come visit for a week and I excitedly said yes. We love hosting people and I soon started thinking about the places we could visit together. The Niagara Falls, of course. The CN Tower perhaps. Then she messaged me. I would really like to witness the work you guys do on the streets.
Memories are simultaneously wonderful and strange. At times they come to the fore without having been summoned. On other occasions they remain vague, despite the desire to recall them more clearly. No matter how far I go back in my memories, there’s no recollection of first learning about abortion. Somehow, I knew that babies are being killed before being born, but that knowledge must have been too foreign to fully process. The day this concept became reality is burned into my soul.
There are countless myths about abortion that are being presented as facts every single day. The more often they're repeated, the more people will believe them to be truth. For example, pro-life friends have messaged me links to studies that seem to say (but don't) that less women die when abortion is legal. The confusion is understandable. Often, unless one analyzes the study, a certain point seems to be proven, at least at first glance.
2017 saw what was likely the largest single-day demonstration in recorded American history. Organized in response to the election of Donald Trump to the presidency, the Women's March sought to unite a broad group of movements. Its mission, at least in writing, is to end violence and promote civil rights, disability rights, environmental justice, immigrant rights, LGTBQIA rights, worker's rights, and so-called reproductive justice.
It would be almost impossible to miss the fact that our culture celebrates a major feast today. Trees, lights, dinners, decorations, and gift exchanges have already set the tone around us in the past few weeks. "All ready for Christmas?" the cashier asked as I collected my groceries on Saturday. I couldn't help but ponder that question as I drove home.
It was a nice sunny day, and the contrast couldn't have been bigger. My boys, still little at the time, chatted happily in the double stroller. In the zipped pouch behind them was a stack of postcards with pictures of little children whose life had been cut short. I made sure to cover the abortion image on the front each time we stopped to stuff a mailbox. Letting the lid fall shut, I walked down the driveway where two eager faces waited for me.
Recently one of my boys got something that he's been hoping to have for a long time: a fidget spinner. While I wasn't willing to buy one of these gadgets when they were all the rage, I could understand his excitement about finally owning one. All the more exhilarating was showing it off when we visited another family, especially when my friend commented that her son had been wanting one for a long time. As we left their house that afternoon, my son quickly handed the fidget spinner to his younger friend. "You can have it," he said. My mother heart swelled at his generosity.
Seven years ago I travelled to New York with two friends to attend the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations headquarters. We joined a delegation of pro-lifers with a mission to represent and report. I attended, among other things, a session by then-director of International Planned Parenthood Dr. Jill Greer, which I wrote about in a couple of newspaper columns and later mentioned during my debate with Dr. Fraser Fellows of London, Ontario.