“Thank you, ma’am,” he said respectfully, though
somewhat awkwardly. By this time, I was able to
stand up by myself, but Liam still kept his arm
around me.
Four or five more girls passed by us before an hour
was up. Every one of them looked right at Liam and
me. Some looked away of their own accord, and
some were forced into the building. Every time the
door slammed, my whole frame quaked. Every time
their gazes were taken from me, I was overwhelmed
with a nameless feeling — guilt, I now realize it
was. I felt as if I were failing each and every one of
them. I was there — I was giving witness — but I
failed to help them.
“Alli,” Liam said after an hour and a half, “we’re
done. It’s over.”
“What?”
“They’re closed now. Everyone’s leaving.”
A wave of relief washed over me. Our work was
finished. There would be no more murders — at
least, not today.
Liam and I began walking slowly back to the car.
However, after just a moment, someone came
running up and calling for us. “Excuse me?” an
unfamiliar voice said. It was one of the yellow-
vested men. “Excuse me, do you have a minute to
talk?”
“Sure,” Liam said, after I nodded my assent.
“Great. Listen, I’m with Emmanuel Ministries.
We’re the local pro-life group, and we’ve never seen
you guys here before. Are you from out of town?”
“No,” Liam supplied, “first visit.”
“Excellent! We noticed that you seemed to have
a great positive influence. Pretty good for your
first time!”
“Thanks,” we both said uncertainly. I didn’t want
to be reminded of those helpless stares again. They
would haunt me for the rest of my life.
“Hey, we’re actually going to breakfast with some
people here. Want to join us?”
“Sure.”
“Great. Do you have a ride?”
“Yeah. We’ll follow you.”
***
The morning was wonderful. We went to a nearby
restaurant and talked for hours. Everyone knew
everyone, and everyone was friendly.
The man who invited us was named Michael. He
had been involved in that pro-life ministry for five
and a half years, starting when he was sixteen.
The time we spent talking with him was filled
with testimonies and stories — some depressing,
some hopeful. Apparently, he had seen the saving
of nearly a hundred babies in the time he had
volunteered there. That fact alone boosted me the
most — these children
could
be saved! There was
hope for them!
“Would you be willing to come here next Saturday?”
Michael asked as we were about to leave.
“I really don’t know. . .” Liam said, still nervous
about me.
“Yes,” I said without faltering. For something inside
made me certain that I had to return.
There Will Be Hope | Zoe Krauskopf | Grade 11
16
BAYLEY BULLETIN, MAR-MAY 2016
