Innocent baby. A boy. Secure and unaware. Unaware of any fears, any dangers, any pain. Full of hope. Thriving, growing and safe...for now.
Frightened teen. Alone and unsure. Unsure about the future and regretfull of the past. Ashamed to tell. Scared to change. Full of shame.
Inconvinienced boy. Turns away. Turns away with the words "not my problem." Closing his eyes to the burdensome situation. Indifferent.
The child is born...arms reaching, breathing in air, hoping to sense warmth. Only cold hands pick him up. He is struggling for life: the only voice he has calling for help as a foreigner who can't communicate. His mother picks him up but only for a moment. His head crashes onto the floor as his mother falls on top of him. Fighting. Struggling. Strong. Determined.
God only knows how long he layed underneath the heavy body but at last she awakes. The child is carried into a room. But why is no help sought? The moments are fleeting: cry out for help! Dinner time. The baby longs to nurse. No. He is placed alone. Cold. Locked inside a dark closet. The mother wants him to go away but he will not; yet he slowly fades. She joins her family around the table. In frightening secerecy she rushes back to the closet where her newborn child lays weak, yet still fighting. He still breathes. With inward screams she stabs his tiny chest. His life is destroyed by his own mother.
She turns to the father. He knows her secret. He knows her pain. He has been her all in life. And now he will know what to do. But he doesn't come. Through the dark night the child's body lies cold. At last the father comes. Indifferent and unaffected by his newborn son's body, he coldly stuffs the corpse in a gym bag, fills the remaining space with rocks and tosses the child into a dark lake. There he lies: disposed of by his own father.
For six years his body lies silent: robbed of the growth that would have transformed him into a 1st grader by now. His body is found. The town cries "evil." A lifeless infant, stabbed and thrown into a lake: who could commit such a henious crime? He is adopted by the community, given a burriel, name (baby boy Hope), and the promise of vengence. All would agree that what happened to this life was truely EVIL.
Innocent baby. A boy. Secure and unaware. Unaware of any fears, any dangers, any pain. Full of hope. Thriving, growing and safe...for now.
Frightened teen. Alone and unsure. Unsure about the future and regretfull of the past. Ashamed to tell. Scared to change. Full of shame.
Inconvinienced boy. Turns away. Turns away with the words "not my problem." Closing his eyes to the burdensome situation. Indifferent.
The child is born: forced from the womb too early, but still his feet kick, his arms flail, sensations unknown surround him. He awaits the warmth of his mothers arms. Only his tiny head remains to emerge. Slimy gloves grasp his helpless body...keeping him from coming out. He isn't able to scream for help; he is as a mute man dying in the presence of blindness: all in the room blind to his new life. His mother turns her head from him. His father isn't even there. The doctors offer no congratulations to his journey from the womb. He is alone. The grip tightens around his frame. With unfeeling hardness his tiny head is pierced and squeezed. Legs stiffen. Arms shake. And then all is still. His life destroyed by those who vow to save lives...his mother approving of their murderous act.
Where was his father? Did he not sense the masculine duty to protect his young son? Did he even know? Did he care? Could he have authorized this? Why didn't he fight?
The tiny young body is thrown into a trash bag. Such a perfect baby so easily disposed of. The church is dismissed down the street. They walk by with disaproving glances. Others pass the crime scene completely indifferent to the act just committed. His body will not be found...no one is looking for him. If it were to be found, one would see the same scene: an infant, the picture of innocence, stabbed and thrown out like trash. But where is the town? Where is the burriel? Is there no hope offered to this young boy? No vengence sought? "No," says the town, "This was the mother's choice; how could it be called evil?"
These are true stories. The first can be found here. The latter can be found each day in your own town. Tell me...how can one be approved and the other condemned? Below are links to related information. Some are graphic. How long can we ignore these children?
Crisis Pregnancy
Need Help?
Partial Birth Abortion
Partial Birth Abortion 2
Related Tags: Abortion, South Dakota, Partial Birth, 20 20, Teen mother, Teen father, Black and white, morality, infant, murder
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