It was a warm 50 degrees, the sun was coming in and out, causing me to shed my long wool coat. I came upon the scene around 10am. The Rosary in English was well on its way. I am familiar with the Rosary, but only in Spanish. Thinking back now I don't believe I've ever heard it aloud in English. I stepped quietly behind the group and chimed in at the appropriate parts. I silently watched the woman praying the rosary with a curiosity. What was SHE thinking? Upon completion SHE had let those who had just arrived know that people had already begun to arrive at the clinic. One person who had heard the prayers and read the signs, had left as quickly as they had come. Others who had entered, had yet to come out. SHE went on to explain that the purpose of our presence was to let God's voice be heard. If someone had come with the intent to follow through with an abortion, their heart and soul might be persuaded to choose, perhaps the harder path. If the harder path was to still follow through, then we were there for them to. We were there solely to pray. We were not there to voice our opinions, regardless of what they were. We were told that if someone were to get angry and come at us, that we were to remain silent and not provoke a fight. I was a little frightened then at the thought that someone might attack us.
It suddenly dawned on me then, upon hearing her last words, that I found the hesitancy on my part to come to pray that day was that I had always believed I was Pro-Choice. Women have had so many rights stripped of them for the longest of time, that I think sometimes today we take it for granted. Liberties that are available today were not so 100 years ago. These thoughts began going through my mind, when SHE asked me if I would do the Rosary in English. Sure, I had said, 'but just to let you know I've never done it before'. SHE looked at me and told me to take my time, the words were written out for me to follow. SHE went on to explain to the crowd, that we would be alternating the Rosary in English and then in Spanish until 6pm. We were to understand that we were not in a hurry. Prayer should be from the heart, a place of meditation, to truly feel the words that are spoken allowed and to reflect on the situation at hand.
Another young woman from my parish started off the Rosary in Spanish, again I chimed in at the appropriate moments. My mind continued to think about why we were there and what effect it might have on those that came to the clinic that day. There were many honks from passerby cars and a few yells of encouragement. One pair of females, who walked on the sidewalk between us, nodded their heads to us and said “God Bless You.” As we continued to recite the prayer I realized that I was taking part in something much larger than myself. I listened intently, trying to follow along, knowing that my turn was coming up. It ended and there was a five minute break to reiterate to the new comers of the rules and our reasons for being there.
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Then it was showtime. SHE squeezed my arm and let me know that it was OK, to take my time; 'We are not in a rush' SHE reminded me. I mentally prepared myself with a prayer, for God to give me the strength and allow me to do a good job. I started off strong. I read the words loud and clear; slow and steady. Somewhere after announcing the third Joyful Mystery, an Our Father, and the second Haily Mary, I felt myself becoming overwhelmed with emotion. I felt a deep and sudden sadness for the souls I would not meet; past, present and future. The tears began to flow and I lost my voice. Tears ran for the ones I had known to have gone through with abortion, the ones who might have but didn't and the ones that would have never thought to. In the back of my head I was thinking, WHAT IS GOING ON? My tears ran in gratitude for the opportunity to know my nieces and nephew, who were bought into the world when my sister's were young. Tears ran for those who still remember the exact details of when it happened to them. Tears ran for the ghost of children skipping rope and playing hopscotch. What I also didn't expect was to feel the woman to my left and to my right, strangers before then, step into me on both sides like warriors and take over where I had left off. I didn't expect the hands that wrapped tightly around my shoulders to offer me comfort. I remember feeling the gentle, firm squeeze in a silent speech, that told me it was OK.The reason I went to pray yesterday had nothing to do with me. My subconscious knew it all along. My tears continued to flow but I had found my voice again. I picked up on the Fourth Joyful Mystery and each word I spoke aloud took on a different shape, a new meaning, than the words I had spit out earlier. I prayed loudly, in hopes that our Holy Mother, Mary Most Holy, would hear me; would hear us. I prayed with an open heart, so that those who went through with their decision might feel Jesus and be comforted, if only for a moment.
Prayer has always been a part of my life. I look to God everyday for guidance. But, I also remember that has not always been the case. As I've gotten older I have learned how powerful prayer can be. May anyone reading this today know personally, or for the first time, the power of prayer. May we take a moment everyday to pray for each other. I ask that you do this now on this Soulful Sunday.
Dear Lord,
My brothers, sisters and I, would like to take this moment to ask that you look over the unborn souls, taken from this earth, by your will or no. We ask that you keep them forever strong in our memory, until we come to be with them again. We ask that you find ways to comfort us, to let us know that everything will be OK. Remind us Lord that anything is possible through you. May you hear all of our petitions today. Peace be with us all.
Amen
Until then,
For more information about the Bridgeport 40 Days for Life Spring Campaign,
visit: http://www.40daysforlife.com/bridgeport or contact Christine Murphy at cmurphy1224@comcast.net / 203 438-4866
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