This is not a day for prologues. This kind of day slips up now and then, and newspaper reading turns out to be the most risk free endeavor.  This is my second attempt to try blogging ... The first one landed in a dumpster somewhere.
    I am ashamed to say that the art of commenting has once again escaped me.  So..... thank you for visiting me, thank you for comments, and the next time Monica comes I will write down what she says and glue it to the TV.
    Lately it seems there has been more than
the usual amount of debating, between the pro life and the pro choice people.  I believe that people make such choices
based on their beliefs and experiences.
   I was working in surgery in Houston, many years ago, when a lady was brought in for treatment.  She was a semi conscious fourty-something year old who had attempted to abort herself.  The baby of course was dead and we had to finish the job.

          LITTLE FINGERS

Once I saw a little boy,
That had been forced to part,
From the womb that nestled him,
Beneath his mother's heart.
I saw his precious little hands,
And little legs and feet,
I saw his tiny little head,
And little face so sweet,
Little fingers not to reach,
To take a grandpa's hand,
Little feet to never run,
Across the grass and sand.
A little boy to never smile,
Or taste the lemonade,
Or nibble at the cookies that,
A loving grandma made.
Many times I've thought of him,
And as the years go by,
I think of him and wonder....
...The saddest way to die.
I wonder if his mother,
As daylight starts to dim,
Wonders like I wonder,
And if she thinks of him. 

God bless you  ---  Mary  Patty