It was amazing to me how many people there were. Just looking at the river of people that seemed to go on and on made me feel so insignificant; but then, I realized that without individuals like me there would be no March.
The flow of families, schools, churches, clergymen, and more had started sometime around 1:00 pm. It’s always hard to tell when the actual March starts because of the constant arrivals of different groups, but one thing I did know was that it had started at the front with regretful women who wanted to take a stand and stop the holocaust.
My group (Stand True) had been just blocks away handing out flyers when we realized that the March had started – and we ran to get in the crowd! As I helped carry the Stand True banner (right), I thought that we probably should’ve brought something to hold it up because otherwise, no one would see it; but then I realized that it didn’t matter if anyone saw our individual banner or not.
We were here to show that we were against abortion, and to take a stand. Sure, we wanted people to see and support us, but right then all that mattered was our presence. The simple fact that we were there to be part of the movement was enough.
As I walked with the crowd, it seemed like I had found my family. It didn’t matter that our countries differed so dramatically that there were some of us from California and some from Ireland, or that some had voted for Obama in the last election and some had picketed his whole operation; it didn’t even matter that we came from Catholic, Lutheran, Evangelical, Jewish, Greek Orthodox, and atheist beliefs. We were united against abortion – of one mind and one goal, and we would stand up for life together.
Everyone was so kind and understanding! It was amazing how just one issue could bring so many people together like that. One thing that was really interesting personally was the policemen that were on duty that day. To me, it was very obvious who supported life, and who supported abortion; the pro-abortion policemen were pretty tight-lipped and overall hostile about the whole thing. The pro-life policemen were simply a part of the family: easy to approach and have a conversation with. Nevertheless, I got back to my hotel well enough with street directions from both groups, and I have to say that they did their jobs well.
When we reached the Supreme Court building, it seemed as though no one knew what to do next. The press of people up in front of the blocked-off building, in the streets, and on the sidewalks became so great that you almost couldn’t take two steps in one direction without having to dodge somebody.
I started to hear yelling from one direction; in fact, it sounded a little like chanting. I presumed that it was just a rowdy boys youth group wanting to burn off some energy. However, when the chanting didn’t stop for at least another ten minutes, I became curious and started trying to worm my way through the incessant crowd. Of course, I was too short to see anything until I got to the very front of the gathering (it was at that point I found myself wishing I had worn my 4-inch heels) and I saw what the commotion was about.
Of course they weren’t pro-lifers! Why hadn’t I known it before?
The very tone of their voices and the hurt and anger behind their eyes showed me the truth. Well, that and a five-foot neon pink sign screaming, “Good women have abortions.”
There were only about fifteen of them, and the police were blocking them off! It seemed to me that if things were to get violent, they were not the ones who would need to be protected.
I attempted to engage in a debate with a 21-year-old man about whether women should have the choice to end their child’s life or not, but it was almost impossible because neither crowd would stop yelling! We tried to continue having a discussion for at least a half-hour, and finally, as the crowd moved on through the streets we left with each other’s names and promises to try to find the other on Facebook. It was my hope that I would be able to help this young man see the light of truth; however, as of yet I have been unable to find him. I constantly continue to pray for him and for others like him who need healing.
The crowd continued on without me after that. I had wanted to go on, but it was starting to get late and I knew my parents would be worried about me soon (and I also knew that it would be difficult to get out of the crowd). I have no idea when it finally ended, but I know that it had to have been hours later as there were people returning to the hotel all day.
Reflections on the day?
Well, I’ll let my encounter with an elderly woman crossing the street suffice: neither of us could understand how the authorities could simply ignore us. The March had started out miniscule and grown to something gigantic – with hundreds of thousands of people flying in every single year just to try and end abortion. She had been coming for many years, and I only two, but we both understood the significance of this year: this was the start of the 40th year. It was not just the end of the 39th, but the start of a new generation.
One full generation of people has been contaminated with the effects of abortion. One full generation.
How is it that we have allowed abortion to touch our children for 40 years? Yes, children. They are indeed children; and we must not let the next generation of children have abortion as a part of their daily lives. At the end of the day, it became absolutely clear to me: we must not let abortion continue. We must act, and we will. One day, our voices will shout so loud that they cannot help but acknowledge us. My only prayer is this: that “one day” comes soon.
LifeNews Note: Cassandra is a 14-year-old pro-life advocate and a gifted singer.