It was ninety-five or over out on the hot sidewalk. Although a girl or two had changed her mind about an abortion, many more had walked past–laughing, snearing, or resigned. A man drove up with a cold drink and said he just wanted to tell us he appreciated what we were trying to do.
He wanted to tell his story. He had recently been divorced from his wife of twelve years. He received custody of their only child–a nine year old daughter. After his wife suffered “miscarriages” he decided to have a vasectomy. Now she tells him that at least two of those were abortions.
He was weeping as he told the story, broken-hearted at the losses he had suffered. We prayed with him, counseled him, but where were his choices, his rights?
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