It bothers me that so many women are picked up in a taxi - alone. The circumstances that brought them to that clinic weren't entered into alone... & yet they're left to be picked up from a building that takes the life of their tiny child by a yellow cab with a stranger driving it.
This girl made me ache differently. She didn't close her eyes and lay against the window like i've seen some do. She stared out the window at us - eyes blank, face expressionless. It seemed to take forever for the cab to get turned around onto the road, and when he did, he was going the wrong way and i quickly realized that they were going to have to drive past us again...
"oh, honey..." i breathed as again... she stared wide-eyed out the window at us before the cab passed us and melted into the traffic pulling onto crowchild.
Words. Why aren't we allowed to exchange words? Words are so much easier to understand than signs, than a perplexing presence, than silence and a half smile...
God, let her remember me. Let her remember that the whole world didn't turn it's back that day... let her remember that there was no anger on our faces, or aggression in our stance... let her remember feeling loved - from people who were full of mercy... Your love, Your mercy...
As she walked a path she never should have walked, alone.
The fact that she is alone could be a reason why she is having the abortion...
When the counter-protesters would come to Ground Zero, the silver lining was that the women were not alone. Yes, we would have preferred to be able to give them information unopposed, but if they wouldn't talk to us, they'd at least talk to the women in the pink shirts.
