Reflections on the Pro-Abortion
March - April 25, 2004
Bryan Kemper - Read>>
Annie - Read>>
Susan - On Sunday, April 25, 2004, I participated in
a counterdemonstration at the so-called "March for Women’s
Lives." In fact, this was a march of those who support
abortion. This is an account of what I experienced. It is the
face of the pro-abortion movement that you will never see in
the newspapers or on television.
Judging by the article that appeared in the Washington Post
the next day, with its photo of children peacefully sleeping
on the shoulders of their pro-abortion parents, one would
suppose that this march was a family affair, appropriate for
even young children to attend. This is the other side of the
story. As stated on the web site of Silent No More, the group
who organized one aspect of the pro-life presence of 1,000
people at the march, it was not an event for the faint of
heart.
At around 11:30 that day, I made my way via subway to the
Holiday Inn near L’Enfant Plaza. The train continued to fill
up with pro-abortion marchers and I could see that I would be
completely outnumbered that day. In fact, partly out of fear,
I did not wear anything to give away my pro-life views, except
the miraculous medal that I always wear. I was truly inspired
then, when a young lady got on the train with a t-shirt
proclaiming that "Abortion is the Ultimate Exploitation
of Women," a quote by one of the founders of the original
feminist movement, all of whom were pro-life.
By noon, I had reached the Holiday Inn and found the group.
Since I did not have my own sign they gave me a sign that said
"Women Need Love—Not Abortion." This is my only
regret of the day. I had wanted to make my own sign saying
"What about the 44 million lives destroyed by abortion
since 1972?," to counter the claim that the march was
about saving lives. Other signs said "Women Deserve
Better than Abortion." There were also a number of women
with signs that said "I Regret My Abortion." One
woman carried a sign with the names of women who have died
from legal abortion and wore a button with a picture of
her daughter, one of the victims.
We were reminded that our call was to be a peaceful,
prayerful presence and not engage in arguments with the
marchers. After a brief prayer, we quietly filed out of the
Holiday Inn two-by two. There were about 40 of us, women and
men. My partner was a teacher who is working to get the
National Education Association to drop their pro-abortion
stance and stick to education. She said she felt somewhat
prepared for the day, since she had previously addressed an
NEA convention of 10,000 people hostile to her viewpoint.
In order to reach the site at Constitution and 7th
where we had permission to stand along the march route, we had
to cross the mall, which was filled with thousands of
pro-abortion marchers were attending their rally. Some people
shook their heads at us; one woman called out "You’re
out of place today ladies." Whether voiced or not, the
disapproval was palpable and I had the feeling of being led
through the lion’s den. It was a relief to reach the other
side and then continue to our site. There we met up with quite
a number of young people, who looked like punk rockers, but
their pro-life t-shirts let us know we were in good company.
Though not in our group, across the street was a group with
posters of aborted babies.
We then proceeded to wait at our corner. Since the march
had not yet begun, we had a chance to chat and get to know
each other. I talked with an older woman who was carrying an
"I Regret My Abortion" sign. Then to the left we
heard drumbeats.
As if a portal to the netherworld had opened, we saw what
looked like a whirlwind of young people-- their head shaved or
dyed bright pink, covered with tattoos and body piercing and
dressed (some barely) in black appeared. They had a sign
painted on an old bedsheet that said, "We’re pro-choice
and we riot." It was obvious that the police were
concerned about this group, which they were trying to encircle
with what seemed like a meager number of officers on bicycle.
The group gravitated toward us and then 3 of the men
proceeded to simulate an orgy in front of us, kissing and
touching each other. About six young women and men proceeded
to do cheerleading-style chants which vulgarly proclaimed
their pro-abortion views. The only thing separating our group
from theirs was an officer who positioned his bicycle as a
divider. Our group remained silent and after about 10 minutes
the group moved on.
We waited for about another half hour and then the police
lining the march route began to arrive and we took our
positions to await the marchers. And come they did. First the
VIPs including Kate Michelman of NARAL Pro-Choice, Gloria
Feldt of Planned Parenthood, and Madelyn Albright, former
Secretary of State, who may still be teaching at Georgetown
University. And then came the legions.
As they came by, they chanted the old standards, "My
Body, My Choice," "Not the Church, Not the State,
Women will decide their fate," and "Keep your
rosaries off my ovaries." They also borrowed one from the
pro-life march (Pro-Choice is a lie, Babies do not choose to
die) and twisted it to say "Pro-Life is a lie, you don’t
care if women die." We heard this over and over. The
worst one of all was "Keep your Messiah out of my
vagina."
As they passed by us, people shouted out "You don’t
belong here," "You should be ashamed of
yourselves," and "If you don’t like abortion, don’t
have one!" Others called us women haters and bigots. One
man rode by on his bicycle giving us the finger and he was not
the only one to give us this sign. Another man who seemed
possessed by anger came up and demanded to know how many
children the young woman to my right had adopted. When she
answered that they were trying to adopt, he sneered "You’re
lying" and walked off.
With her sign saying "I regret my abortion," the
woman to my left, was a target. At least four women stopped to
single her out and angrily told her "At least you had a
choice," not realizing that she had had an abortion
before they were legal. Perhaps 6 or seven other women called
out "I don’t regret mine" and one even went so far
as to say "I don’t, I thank God for mine
everyday." Other responded with a sarcastic "Too
bad" or "bad choice." At first, the woman to
her left and I tried to console her. After a while, she said
"I’m getting used to it."
There were many homosexuals and lesbians in attendance.
Some carried signs identifying themselves as such or demanding
the right to marry, two women came and french kissed over and
over in front of us. Another group of about four women wore
t-shirts proclaiming themselves to be "Sluts for
Choice." A couple of women wore nothing but pasties on
their breasts as they marched and one pregnant woman (she
looked to be at least 7 or 8 months along) used her exposed
swollen belly as a billboard with the words pro-choice painted
on it.
I am sad to say that I saw at least 6 people with signs
saying "Catholics for Choice." I also saw several
signs proclaiming that "If men could get pregnant,
Abortion would be a sacrament!" In another group, a
grandmother had made a poster with all the pictures of her
grandchildren, saying she was marching for their right to
choose. One could only wonder how many grandchildren were
missing from her poster.
While some signs only demonstrated ignorance, such as
"Not every ejaculation deserves a name," others
achieved a level of vulgarity that was only hinted at in Hank
Stuever’s article "Body Politics," in the Style
section of the April 25, 2004 Washington Post. A number of
women carried signs saying "Keep Bush out of my
Bush" and another one used the word c—t instead. The
f-word was also in evidence that day. There were also a few
signs saying "If you don’t like abortion, cut off your
d—k."
The worst sign of all was one carried by one homosexual man
walking with his partner that said "Babies taste
good." When I saw it, I recoiled in horror behind my sign
and another man misinterpreting my action shouted out "Go
ahead hide behind your sign, you should be ashamed."
Because we were not too far from the end of the march, as
people finished marching they began to return, walking on the
sidewalk behind us. Thus, for quite a while we were surrounded
on both side by pro-abortion supporters and several times
people came up and stood right behind us with their
pro-abortion signs yelling out encouragement to their fellow
marchers.
After what seemed like an interminable length of time, with
our feet aching from standing in place, the march and our
counter protest were finally over. With the help of God, we
had stood firm, but my heart ached for the innocent unborn who
are victims of abortion and for the young children and
pre-teens in attendance at the march who were exposed to all
of the indecent and obscene things I witnessed. At the same
time, this experience has only strengthened my resolve to pray
and do whatever I can peacefully do to bring an end to the
abortion holocaust.
Sr. Hanna Klaus, MMS, M.D. - I was with the group at
7th and Constitution also. Around 2:30 a slightly
darker skinned woman joined us with a NARAL "Who
decides?" sign. Rather than challenge her for being on
"our" turf, I began to talk to her. It turns out she
was from Lahore and now works for an agency in DC. I told her
why I think abortion is totally wrong, and that the best way
to prevent it is to prevent the crisis pregnancy. Also told
her that fertility is not a disease, and about our educational
programs. After a while she asked how long I had been standing
in place, offered to hold my sign while I went to get some
water... I complemented her on her "ecumenism"...I
also spoke to some of the marchers as we all went to the
Metro. Some were middle aged women who just came to support
what they thought was a good cause, like Planned Parenthood...
had no idea what they are into. Given the state of my feet
after the 4 hour stand, I hope I had offered something to the
Lord for the "cause."
Perhaps the reason the lady from Lahore and I were able to
connect is that I worked in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, five years,
and still knew a little Urdu. I also asked her if she did not
accept the Muslim teaching that abortion is always a sin, a
small sin if the baby has not begun to move, (i.e. if the
mother has not felt movement) and a big sin if the mother has
felt life. She knew about this, was a bit uncomfortable and
finally said she was an agnostic. When we parted I said
"God bless you even if you are an agnostic" which
she enjoyed...
Sr. Hanna Klaus, MMS, M.D.
Natural Family Planning Center of Washington, D.C and Teen
STAR Program
8514 Bradmoor Drive
Bethesda, MD 20817-3810
Tel. 301-897-9323, Fax 301-571-5267
hklaus@dgsys.com
www.teenstar.org
Cheryl - Last Sunday I was quietly praying on the
corner of Independence and 7th street while the
March of Abortion rights and President Bush haters took place.
I have some amazing things to tell you being part of the
Silent No More Awareness group of Fr. Pavone.
There is a conversion story, where an older woman came up
to me as I was silently praying the rosary and asked if she
could trade her sign for pro-abortion for my sign that said
"I’m Pro-Life". She said "I don’t know why
I came out to march today. All I know is my baby is dead and I
am Pro-life." Her name is Shirley Butler, please pray for
her.
There was Ted Turner mocking a young woman holding a sign
saying "I regret my abortion"! Beside me was a
mother wearing her dead daughter’s picture from a hospital
abortion, the Navy doctor who refuses to write script for
contraception, several women from Georgia, one who had an
abortion over 20 years ago from a date rape, a husband and
wife from California who had flown to Washington D.C. for the
first time to try and heal from their decision to abort.
It was a small turnout. Probably less than 300 of us on
several corners against several thousand angry and scary
pro-abortion people holding signs.
They were shouting at us, gyrating obscenities, and holding
giant signs that said things like: "get your rosaries out
of our ovaries".
We had bottles thrown at us. Paint in a plastic egg and an
actual raw egg too. The police had to physically barricade us.
The college men and women that turned out, some with
Catholic University Pro-Life tshirts, singing Ave Maria songs
in Latin were especially persecuted. It was an afternoon, I
will never forget.
Janet Morana - Her name is Shirley B. and she had come
to march in the "March for Women’s Lives." She was
holding a sign that said: "Stand Up for Choice." She
came up to Cheryl Forbes and myself. We were both holding the
new sign that the SNM Awareness Campaign made for that day.
It's a big yellow smiley face with the words, "I’m
Pro-life."
Shirley B. said, "I can’t hold this sign and march
with them anymore." She bent the Planned Parenthood sign
on a stick and handed it to me. She then told me that she had
lost a child to "Crib Death" and said with tears in
her eyes, "I can’t march with them anymore."
I consoled her and she put her arms around me and sobbed.
She left proudly holding the smiley face pro-life sign. Two
ladies with the SNM Awareness Campaign escorted her out to the
streets outside of the rally area.
The women and men with the SNM Awareness Campaign stood
like soldiers of Christ holding their signs in prayerful
silence. At one point the radical pro-abort faction came
towards us and stood for about 20 minutes with the police
standing in front of us to protect us. They were screaming and
chanting vile comments and gestures.
We saw Whoopi Goldberg marching with hangers in her hand
and Ted Turner sneering at our women. We saw some women
with tears in their eyes when they looked at the "I
Regret My Abortion" signs.
I'm glad we were there to witness to the truth that
abortion hurts women and we want to make abortion and
"unthinkable choice" for women.
Michael Ciccocioppo-Our group of about 50 pro-lifers
walked squarely through the middle of thousands of
pro-abortion demonstrators gathered on the grassy mall that
stretches from the National Capitol to the Washington
Monument. We marched quietly, two-by-two, holding up our signs
as a witness to life.
"Boo, boo, boo!" came the angry shouts of those
who did not want to acknowledge the lives of the unborn. After
all, this was to be their day, April 25, 2004. They traveled
to Washington to draw the attention of the nation to, what the
media consistently referred to as, "abortion
rights".
We kept moving. The hatred was palpable on this warm but
overcast Sunday afternoon in spring. Thank God the right of
free speech. I was convinced that this was the only thing that
kept the throngs at bay. They limited their attack to verbal
slings and arrows, though some of what they said is not fit to
repeat.
Ours was one of a number of pro-life counter demonstration
groups that took up positions along the planned route of the
pro-abortion march organized by Planned Parenthood, the
National Abortion Rights Action League (NARAL), the National
Organization of [some] Women (NOW) and others. Ours was the
third wave of counter demonstrators who responded to the call
for action send out in advance by the Silent No More Awareness
Campaign (www.silentnomoreawareness.org). Two other waves, led
by Georgette Forney, co-founder of Silent No More, had been
dispatched earlier.
According to media reports, thousands of pro-lifers that
were sponsored by various groups lined the march route down
Pennsylvania Avenue to 7th Street and back to the mall. Our
group was led by Janet Morana, the other co-founder. She
directed us to an approved spot on the corner of Constitution
Avenue and 7th Street. We would be the last pro-lifers the
marchers would see before they were to assemble on the mall
for a rally.
I reported in the April 1, 2004 issue of PA Pro-Life OnLine
News, that the march organizers were welcoming just about
anyone who wanted to protest against our pro-life President
George Bush. Before the march began, our group was spotted by
a group of anarchist, anti-Bush, anti-government,
"anti-anything decent", radical cheerleaders. They
put on a raucous and disgusting demonstration for us for about
fifteen minutes in the middle of 7th Street.
Banging on empty plastic five-gallon buckets, blowing
shrill whistles, chanting radical slogans, screaming in our
faces, engaging in lewd homosexual kissing and other indecent
gestures, they clearly meant to rattle our number. One young
man had handwritten on the back of his T-shirt: "Bush: If
my parents had aborted me I wouldn't be voting against
you." Vulgar slogans were on other apparel, and on their
angry lips.
As the air around us filled with the pungent scent of body
odor wafting over our group from these tormentors in the
street, we stood in quiet discipline holding our signs high
hoping to touch the heart of even one of the revelers. Many of
us, I learned later, were praying quietly for these misguided
young people and their adult instigators.
At 1:20 p.m. the first pro-abortion marchers crossed
Constitution Avenue and caught sight of us. We were like a
magnet. They moved in close to us, first reading our signs,
and then mocking and ridiculing us, chanting the pro-abortion
slogans they were no-doubt taught by organizers at the
beginning of the march. Some tried to get directly in our
faces, but they could not get past the wall of bicycle
policemen who stood in front of us along the curb behind their
bikes.
Janet had explained during our pre-deployment briefing that
we should not say anything to the marchers or to each other.
"Your signs will speak for you," she said.
Post-abortive women and men holding up signs saying,
"I regret my abortion", or "I regret lost
fatherhood," drew curious stares and many nasty personal
comments from marchers. "Women need love not
abortion", and smiley faced "I'm pro-life"
signs incited ridiculous responses from marchers like,
"Pro-Choice is Pro-Life". We heard that chanted a
lot. But we held our signs high and refused to be intimidated
or hurt by their ridicule—even when someone threw a handful
of condoms at us.
When the last marchers passed us at 3:50 p.m. we could
relax a little. We moved to a grassy location in the shadow of
the Capitol for a little time of sharing and prayer. We could
hear in the background the shameless blaring of speakers on
the nearby mall. But their words were indiscernible to us.
We were told that on woman marcher turned in her
pro-abortion sign in exchange for a pro-life sign. She
explained that her child had died of crib death, and after
reflection during the march she decided she could no longer
support abortion. No doubt the pro-life witnesses she observed
along the way gave her pause to reflect and courage to step
out.
After joining in prayer together, we disbanded and headed
for home. I left even more convinced than ever that despite
the fact that the majority of Americans are now reporting in
the polls that they are pro-life, there are still a lot of
people who need the truth. Let us all renew our commitment to
expose everyone to the truth about the right to life of all
human beings, and the truth that abortion hurts women, men,
families, society and the nation.
Michael Ciccocioppo is the Executive
Director of Pennsylvania Pro-Life Federation www.paprolife.org
LM - I
had spent these three days processing the emotional experience
I had this past Sunday. At first, I could not stop crying, the
fact that we witness so much evil, and so many people
mistaken, plus the media coverage that presented their side
like the million people defending women’s rights, and our
side like the anti-abortion activist that got arrested for
crossing the other side’s boundaries, got me into a deep
depression. But reflecting on the different people’s
reaction to our presence at the march, I remember the woman
who cried so much in front of Georgette, and when her husband
finally got her back into the march, she kept her sign down. I
also remember reading in a woman’s lips the words "I’m
sorry", after she read my "I regret my
abortion" sign while she made eye contact with me. I
realized then, that we probably had changed someone’s heart.
After all, GOD IS STRONGER THAN THEY ARE. That
encouraged me to continue healing and looking for ways to help
save lives and prevent scars in many women’s hearts.
Mary - I had an
incredible emotional experience on Sunday at the March for
Women’s Lives. I only decided to go to the March that
morning since the previous night we had had our annual
fundraiser with over 230 persons and I was dead tired. But our
guest speaker had been Georgette Forney, and her story about
the regret and pain caused by the abortion she had over thirty
years ago energized me to go and lend my support. She was
heading the group of "Silent No More"
counter-demonstrators who were composed mostly of women who
had had abortions. We were about 80 persons in all.
We were denied a permit, so we had banded
with other groups and were told to stand at the corner of 15th
and Constitution Ave. We had to walk there from L’Enfant
Plaza around the actual mall as we were not allowed to cross
into their space. After a briefing where we were told to
prayerfully and silently witness and not to engage the
opposition, we set out. Georgette asked me if I would wait for
two post-abortive ladies, dressed in white, who were carrying
a large framed reproduction of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I said
ok.
These two women were carrying this 8 foot
image on a two-handle dolly and it was rather hard to get it
up and down the sidewalks to get to our post. They were both
dressed in white. Nina, a Cuban, was carrying a Bible and a
crucifix. The other woman wore a white cowboy hat and
distributed many images of Our Lady in medals, pins, and
picture card form. They had a mission and I was allowed to
participate. It was embarrassing at first, but humbling after
a while. Let me explain:
I offered to help carry the image as their
shoulders were very tired. It made me think of having the
cross on my shoulders although it was not heavy. Soon these
three young men from our group also decided to help. Two of
them took over the carrying of the picture. I called them our
"Simons of Cyrene" - the third young man had a big
smile on his face and greeted all the marchers with "have
a nice day". With our Lady behind us and these three
guardian angels, I felt totally protected. We were wearing
blue tee-shirts that said: "Women deserve better than
abortion." Blue and white versus pink, black, and purple.
It was a fitting color war that captured the spiritual war
going on around us. Our Lady’s blue and white army of five.
(The loaves and the fishes came to mind.)
We finally got to our station and began to
pray in earnest. The march was about to begin. Many persons as
they passed us had laughed and made derogatory remarks. I felt
that we were making our "Way of the Cross".
Because we were definitely the
"religious fanatics" we were constantly being
photographed filmed and interviewed. As the march began, we
edged our Lady up to the barrier. Then the photos really
began, and we realized that the message-"I regret my
abortion" was being lost to the spectacle of the women in
white with cross and bible outstretched. So we gently moved
our Lady back and placed ourselves in front of the image with
the black signs: "I regret my abortion" - I realized
that at that moment, I had joined the ranks of the
post-abortive.
But wait, I thought to myself, I haven’t
had an abortion, I don’t deserve to carry this sign, but
then I thought of my six miscarriages, and I can still see it
as plain as day—one time I saw my medical chart - it said:
"spontaneous abortion" - yes, I too had six
spontaneous abortions that I deeply regret. The fact of twelve
healthy children does not do negate the reality of my six
children in heaven. Children whose sex I can only guess at,
children who I was never able to hold and mourn their passing.
Children whose names only I know, because I have been told to
"get on with life" and not to burden others with
this sorrow.
No public mourning, no funerals, no name
plates. I have selected six stained glass angels in my Church
windows who I have named after them: Elizabeth, Michael, Jane
Francis, Thomas Joseph, Alice Gerard, and lastly Manela, whose
name is a combination of my father and mother’s name. They
had both recently died when I lost her. Two miscarriages in
one year.
But back to the march,-- another thought
that crossed my mind was that we had pushed Our Lady back to
counter the religious fanatic image of pro-lifers. But I
realized that in fact I am a religious fanatic, how else could
I withstand all that evil and anger. I had people giving me
the finger, using the "f" word over and over when
they saw us. Or laughing. All of a sudden Mel’ Gibson’s
depiction of the devil became extremely real. Signs that said
"Abort Bush" abounded. Signs wishing that Mary had
aborted Jesus. How sick it all was. The ones that hurt the
most were the ones that said: "Women of Faith - support
choice" Because they looked like me. But if our eyes met,
they quickly looked away. I thought of the rich young man
walking away sad when Christ asked him to give it all up and follow him.
I felt that we were the Women of
Jerusalem-watching Christ be crucified in front of us. I did
not feel hatred towards the mob, but only deep deep sorrow,
and the tears flowed.
The surging crowd mocked and laughed at us.
At first it was really hard for me. I found my solace in the
sixty or so marchers for our side. Georgette was a beacon of
light. Her beautiful face, breaking out into tears from time
to time after the march started. Seeing Keith Fimian, who was
at our dinner the night before, and Kathy and Austin Ruse,
also helped a lot. Leaders who are truly for women.
At times I wanted to go over and put my arm
around Georgette, but my post was in front of Our Lady and
next to little "Star" (not her real name)- a little
Latino woman with sad eyes who had recently experienced a
coerced abortion. Her "gulag" experience is one that
will always motivate me to go on with our work. She had shared
with me earlier how she had lost her insurance and her husband
had urged her to abort. She thought, and was repeatedly told,
that she could withdraw at any time. She wanted to see a
sonogram. They did
one but would not let her see it. As the time neared for the
procedure, she collapsed into the fetal position and screamed
that she did not want to go through with it. They finally had
to practically carry her into the room against her will and
tie her down to the table. She said that as they gave her the
anesthesia, she could see all these faces talking to her, that
the nurses had smiled as they carried her into the room. The
evil was so overwhelming that she started saying the Our
Father as she went to sleep.
She now has been in treatment for severe
depression. She has also had a miscarriage since then. Two
dead babies. Two angels in heaven waiting for her. She wanted
to come to the March, her first time going public with her
story, to tell the world of the evil of abortion. Her story is
yet to be told. Although she was interviewed three times,
twice by obviously unsympathetic reporters.
Getting back to the March, it was like the
crucifixion watching those hundreds of women and men march by,
so lost, so angry. The worst ones were the ones that would
break out of the march and come up to us and say (usually in
an angry whisper) and shaking their fingers at us-"I don’t
regret my abortion." And then the smile as they turned
back to their friends. Misery certainly loves company. One
black woman did start crying. And her husband/partner, gently
brought her back into the march. I know we changed one heart
that day.
Soon my little friend Star said she needed
to go to the ladies room. I said I would accompany her. I did
not want her alone for one minute. She was so frail. The
little sister I never had. We walked to the Holocaust Museum
to use the facility. How ironic we both thought. Here is a
whole museum reminding us of what happens when a class of
people is considered "non human" - and the people in
this march don’t see the similarity. The place was packed
with visitors.
I did not want to spend any time there and
suggested we go to the Air and Space for lunch. It was
two-thirty. Again, I was afraid she would pass out. On the way
there we were talking in Spanish. At this point we were not
carrying signs or anything else. A young reporter with a
recorder came up and said, "you are the first Hispanics I
have heard all day can I interview you". "Of
course" I said as I handed him a newsletter about Centro
Tepeyac (the pregnancy center I direct). I proceeded to tell
him that I was there to help save the lives of women who have
been duped into thinking abortion is the quick and easy
solution. I told him how Latino women are now being targeted.
The pro-choice movement has succeeded with the blacks, and now
they want to come after us. With the promise of riches. Then I
told him to ask my little friend what her experience was like.
Star told her story into the mike, all the
while looking at the ground. She kept repeating that she wants
the world to know that abortion is hell. That after her
abortion she could not care for her other children. That she
has not slept peacefully, that she keeps wanting to end her
life. That she was lied to. Told she could stop the procedure
at any time. Soon the reporter realized that he had stumbled
on two women of the other side. He said thank you and walked
away. I only hope that somewhere in Brooklyn, New York he is
listening to that tape and being touched. I don’t see how he
could not be.
After lunch, I knew it was time for me to go
home. To go home and re-group and kiss my husband and kids,
and take a nap and get back to the incredibly important task
of raising a family. I came home and took a two hour nap and
had a wonderful dinner, prepared by my husband, of soup and
sandwiches. Took my little Carmen up for her bath, song and
bedtime story. And went to bed thanking the Lord for his
blessings.
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