A Bedtime Story

Once upon a time a little boy dreamt of growing up and being a big league baseball player.  He dreamt that his mommy and daddy sat in seats right behind home plate.  They jumped up and cheered when he hit the home run that won the game!

Too bad that his mommy and daddy didn’t want him because it wasn’t the right time or he was an accident or maybe one of his genes was wrong or any other reason.  So, his mommy went to the abortion clinic where they removed him from her and cut off his face while his heart was still beating so they could pull his brain out of his skull.  They took his lungs and liver and kidneys and put them in jars of formaldehyde so they could be studied and put the rest of him in an oven and burnt him to ashes just like the Nazis did to little Jewish boys and girls at Auschwitz, except those children were already born, so that was murder.  This little boy was just a pile of medical waste.

This little boy dreamt that he would be a big league baseball player when he was just a baby in his mommy’s tummy.  But she didn’t share that dream with him.

Does this upset you?  Why?  Is it because the little boy is dead or that I describe his death in crass, emotionally charged terms?  Upsetting you doesn’t make it any less true.  It just makes you uncomfortable, if you support abortion or have had them yourself.

One upon a time this little boy had a dream.

If you read this story it is because your own mommy chose life for you.  Remember that.

(C) 2015

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One Comment to “A Bedtime Story”

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