Letter from an Unborn
She got in the car scared, giving the impression somebody is following her. Actually, it seems she wanted to outrun her past; and quickly at that. The shadow of the past months held like glue to each and every movement she made. Living with the fear of eternal punishment as payment for a decision taken in secret. I realised what it was about, when she asked my opinion on abortion, right after we passed by a church. I asked a question:- what would he told you? After a short contemplation, she answers with a shaking voice: who? God?… I answer honestly with a smile: no… the child.
Letter from an Unborn
“Dear mummy and daddy,
I can hardly wait to feel your arms when you hold me tight on your chest calling me by your chosen name from a character that shaped your childhood. The protective tent that I am in and in which every limb is developing amazingly precise and a speed hard to imagine is my temporary home. Is it like this in the world outside? Peaceful? Safe? is it worth seeing it? Are you eagerly waiting?
But what do I hear? Is it your voice mummy? How beautifully you sing! I may inherit your talent.
What would you like me to be when I grow up? Does humanity need a healer of the psyche? Or a juror, pleading for those unable to? Or an engineer to build bridges connecting any race or culture of the world map?
My age is as much as my sister’s summer vacation. I feel this time is decisive for me. But also for you. To my concern… if I ever see light with my own eyes, or hear with my own ears the sound of the violin you play. To my concern… it would open the little gate towards new responsibilities. When the “vacation” ends, will I hope to reach these wants?
Before you decide what you will do with me, I want to reveal one more thing: I have a soft, crisp skin, my eyes- just as you wanted dearest mummy- like green peacock feathers, curly fire coloured hair.
My dearest parents, I will not blame you if I appeared unexpectedly, or if I take up space at the table, or if you would be ashamed of my presence, or stain the family reputation, but I would succeed on my own. Do not pass judgement of guilt by ending an innocent life. Mummy, daddy, I hug you prematurely. I love you a lot.”
When I read the letter, the young woman showed gratitude for the way I made her look at this situation. Besides, some words came to me revealing to who do we owe the miracle of life:”With you is the source of life; By your light we can see light.” to place a dam to this source may strain the bond with the owner.
