Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: THE WHOLE WORLD IN GOD’S HANDS (not the song) (05/28/15)
TITLE: Silent Cries
By Hannah Gaudette
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I scurried toward the small, white doctor's office, a smile on my face. The wind howled around me, blowing the light snow through my scarf. It had been a cruel January in our mountain town, and February promised to be as much. But today, I was feeling warm inside.
I greeted the receptionist and took a seat in the bright waiting room. It was early yet, so there were only two others seated. But I paid them no mind. My thoughts swarmed around the new life I carried within me. Just yesterday, Noah and I had picked out a name for our unborn son: Nathan.
Today I was here to ensure all was well and our firstborn's heart was still beating strong.
Beside me, a woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, wearing a 'Save the Trees' shirt sat, calmly reading a magazine. She was Melissa Hobbs, who worked at the cafe nearest our house. I remembered the co-owner of the business filling in last month because Melissa was on maternity leave. After that, we hadn't heard anything.
â€śBoy or girl?â€ť I asked.
She looked over at me and smiled politely. â€śBoy. But I'm just here for an abortion.â€ť
I froze. Had she really said . . . no, she wouldn't. I knew that she had two wonderful, well-raised daughters at home. Surely she wasn't . . . â€śMelissa, are you serious?â€ť
She nodded. â€śCertainly. Roland and I feel our family is more than complete now with Becky and Rachael. Wouldn't you agree?â€ť
I swallowed, but my mouth was dry. Nathan kicked. No wonder. He was probably as mad as I was. My hand went to my stomach. Noah and I could never do that, no matter the circumstances.
â€śMrs. Hobbs?â€ť a nurse called from the doorway.
Melissa rose and I grabbed her hand. â€śPlease, Melisa, don't go through with this.â€ť
She scoffed and kept walking. I stayed put, practically frozen in place, even though my mind screamed to go after her, stop her, make her see what she was doing. I waited a long time without even looking in any direction other than Room 3, at the far end of the hall which I could see from here.
â€śMrs. Adams?â€ť a nurse called.
I numbly followed her to Room 2 and waited for the doctor a few minutes longer. All through the exam, I couldn't stop thinking about what was going on in the next room.
Afterward, my doctor stood back and smiled. â€śWell, Beth, your son is strong and healthy. His little heart's beating away.â€ť
All else faded and I concentrated on those words. My heart delighted in them! To know that all was well, indeed. On the way out to my car, I thought about all those millions of babies killed before they had a chance to see the world, to take a real breath, to fulfill God's plan for their lives.
I sat down in the car, sort of in a daze. Tears welled in my eyes. Someone had to tell them the truth. Would my son grow up to do that? God had given us this child for a reason, a most special reason.
Familiar words came to mind: not a sparrow will fall to the ground without Him knowing. The children are like His sparrows, I thought. He knows them all by name and holds them close.
I prayed out loud, â€śGod, bring forth their silent cries. Make us hear them.â€ť
This world has come so far, I thought. We've fallen into darkness, in which we're blind and deaf. Someday, somehow, somewhere . . . God will make us hear the silent cries of those unborn kings and queens.
I started the car and pulled out of the driveway. I paused just long enough to see Melissa coming out of the clinic, looking discouraged and unsettled. Had she changed her mind? I could hope so. But one way or another, she was a creation of God. Held forever in His hand, just as her little son was, too.
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