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Another Day at the Mill- Post Christmas day…


Yes,  this picture is from my local Planned Parenthood the day after Christmas.  The security guards , pictured above, with their Colt 45 strategically placed on their hips are protecting the women and men from dangerous pro life counselors. Indeed, another day at the mill as the guards watch carefully with not only guns but cameras upon us.

I arrived about 9:30am expecting the parking lot to be empty because everyone would be shopping and returning gifts they didn’t like. Tragically, women and teenage girls  were returning eternal gifts in droves post Christmas day.

I felt my stomach churn within as  I soon discovered every spot in the lot was taken. Men and women were standing outside the surgery center door waiting for their appointed kill time. I held back the tears beginning to form and  pushed into the public grass next to the driveway, my battered but effective YOUR BABY WANTS TO LIVE sign.

I sighed and began praying, “Lord I am here for you and I am feeling overwhelmed and beyond discouraged.”

The little voice within, whispered, ” Thank you for giving dignity to these babies untimely deaths.” Pray and baptize their souls as they are innocent martyers and their precious blood will bring conversion.” 

I prayed the simple prayer from the Precious Blood Chaplet and baptized these innocent and holy  souls that would soon die on the altar of  self centeredness and fear. I clutched  my baby rosary for the unborn and began praying.

A few moments later,  a car pulls in.  I wave and smile and rush up to the window hoping to make eye contact. They  glanced at me perplexed by my wave and warm smile as my pro life signs glared in their perplexed faces.  In defiance, the driver pushed the gas pedal and gunned her car into the parking space. I whispered a prayer. “Father forgive them for they know not what they do. ”

A young teenage girl not more than 15 or 16, with baggy sweats stepped out of the car and glanced over at her mother for reassurance and comfort.  I shout with firm and loving words, “We can help”. Your baby wants to live, mommy!”

The teenage girl looks down as her mother steers her towards the door. My words fall on stone ears. I pray, “Guardian Angel go to her Guardian Angel” and please whisper in her ear, Your baby wants to live!”

The mother turns around and glares at me and walks quickly up the ramp towards the door into the mill while holding her daughter’s  elbow. I continue to silently pray and with the determination and conviction, I shout for the last time before the door shuts. “WE CAN HELP! ASK TO SEE YOUR ULTRA SOUND.”

What child is this that lay to rest with all of heaven weeping on this post Christmas day.

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