In 1997, I was invited to speak at a breakfast of legislators, business, and professional leaders from the greater Phoenix area. Motivated by my love for children, including the unborn, I prepared my speech diligently and prayerfully to fit the half-hour I was promised. There was a sense of urgency in the air. Partial-birth abortion laws were under debate in the Arizona legislature. The people at this lecture could influence the final vote.
The morning of the breakfast, the speaker scheduled for the first half-hour went on and on, taking most of my time. When I was finally introduced, only seven minutes remained before the meeting’s end. My fully prepared speech was out of the question. On the short walk to the podium, I silently prayed for guidance on what to say that would make a difference in so short a span.
Looking out over the audience, I set my notes aside and determined to speak from my heart. First, I quickly explained our research on the unborn, sharing briefly some of the stories I have collected, demonstrating that each soul lives before earth life and has a time, place, and purpose to be born.
Next, I spoke of the Oscar-winning film, Schindler’s List. Schindler knew about Hitler’s insidious plan to destroy the Jews. While most of his fellow countrymen were either ignoring or contributing to the holocaust, Schindler risked his life to protect the rights and lives of Jews. He could not save them all, but he resolved to rescue as many as he could. This courageous man wept over lives he was unable to save. But the fact is, Schindler’s noble efforts saved many thousands of innocent people.
I continued: “Today there is another group of innocents being systematically destroyed—the unborn. Those of you who protect the lives of the unborn against abortion, you are Schindlers. Each soul you save makes a difference.”
I concluded with the following account from our files.
A young boy drowned and later revived. After he had recovered, he described to his mother the brother he had met during his near death experience.
Puzzled, the mother reminded her son, “Honey, you know you don’t have a brother.”
“Yes I do, Mommy. He was pulled from your tummy when you were only fourteen.”
The mother was stunned. It was true. She had become pregnant at fourteen and secretly had the child aborted. She never told a living soul—not her husband, not even her parents.
By Sarah Hinze