“Cold Is My Grave, But Oh I Love It”

Abortion is just another word for death. Whether deliberate or not the results are the same. Two basic positions have emerged – “Abortion On Demand” and “The Right Of Life”.
According to the Supreme Court, abortion is a matter of a personal choice. Life for the unborn no longer holds the position of honor and protection, but now is in the broad area of human choice and judgment. The changing attitude toward crime in general continues on a downward slide. The victim is often ignored while the criminal clamors for his/her rights.
Suicide is a personal choice. Few people elect this form of death when someone still loves them. Yet, even this fatal judgment of the mind is not a “personal choice” when it directly involves others. To “pull ones own plug” in the twilight of life hardly compares to a plane hi-jacker, who threatens himself and many others on board.
Abortion is a personal choice that involves more than just having it performed. In America alone, millions of babies have been aborted in the last few years. What kind of “personal choice is it when I decide to end the life of another person? Such decision was not based on the threat to the mother’s life, nor was the pregnancy the result of rape or abuse. Deformity or disease are not involved in the vast majority of “wasting these lives. A personal choice was!
Abortion is death and the choosing of death is made by one person for another. This law, in principle reads, “It is my personal choice (judgment) to choose death for you”. When murder is committed, the one (murderer) chooses death for another one (victim). They bury the victim and the murderer is punished, some of the time.
Aborting a “life” is not the same kind of murder. Yet, in principal, they are identical. Is abortion just a matter of PERSONAL CHOICE??
I am writing these words while flying to a weekend appointment. There is a passenger on board that did not pay for his fare. I offered to pay it for him but they refused. He is sitting in the seat next to me. He reclines in somewhat of a “mystical hands praying” position. He is so small he is unnoticed. His mother isn’t here. He has never spoken a word. He doesn’t cry. His father is alive today, somewhere on the earth. A friend gave him to me to care for. Lunch will be served in a few moments, yet he will not eat. He once had a very strong appetite – but no more. He didn’t lose it, it was taken from him!
He will never again swim with abandoned pleasure in his mother’s womb. She did not want him. She did not love him. He is in limbo. His cry was never heard, except maybe in his mother’s heart as she grew older. The wind would “whisper his words” but it was too late.
His “personal choice” to live was cast aside. He was not made a ward of the court, but to the contrary, all protections by the court were removed from him. He is one of the vast millions who have been “wasted” by a culture that places a low self-image on life“.
The very doctors who took the vow to preserve life deliberately destroyed his. He was not sucked out of the womb in small bits and pieces, like a garbage disposal discharges waste. He is one of the elite who was poisoned with a saline solution. He did not drink it willingly. It was injected into his world, he wondered “why”?
Now he sits quiet and still. He is preserved in chemicals and kept inside a special container – hidden from the eyes of the living. Atrocities of any given generation happen, yet none seem to be aware of them while they are going on.
We are now making our descent into New York City. This could have been his home town, for more of his relatives were aborted here last year than were born alive. I dare not remove him from his hiding place. He would strike fear in the hearts of all the other passengers.
His conception was a personal choice, and so was his death. He is a legal “homicide” yet never threatened anyone with harm. He may have been another Einstein or Edison. He is silent and yet so eloquent. He lays naked and defenseless – yet he attacks us – reminds us – shames us!
We fear him for we have failed to love him. We hide from him but there is no place.
Now everyone is departing. Look at them, hugging loved ones, sweethearts embracing, children jumping for joy. Homecoming time.
My little friend; His life stopped at 20 weeks, yet he is perfectly formed. Weight – about a half-a-pound; size – just a handful.
On his tomb should be placed the saying;

“Cold is my grave but O I love it,
For colder were my friends above it.”

     (Author’s note) I carried (I named him Abel) with me for nearly thirty years. He was on display where I spoke (with permission) and the display was set up in a private room. Only those who desired to stop, meditate or shed a tear came. Without judgment, this was my way of helping others to form their convictions about “Abortion on demand”. Mark has now been buried in a private grave with honors.


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