Fara Nume

21 million abortions recorded in Romania 1958-2012 Romania's population today: 19 million people (2012 census) All of our kids were in their beds, the night news was over and I was busy arranging the details for the medical presentation I was making for my students the next day. While I was reviewing some slides I was intending to show, on the screen came a picture of an abortion victim: a girl of 2 1/2 months gestation. Her little body was dismembered by the curettage tool, a sort of long knife that's used in this abortion procedure. Only then I realized that there was another person next to me. At the sound of his fast-paced breathing, I turned and realized that my youngest son was next to me. The three-year old snuck in my room and was in shock seeing the picture on the screen. In a soft emotional voice he asked me . . . who tore the baby? How can this small innocent child see... what millions of adults cannot? 4 weeks 8 weeks 12 weeks 16 weeks 20 weeks 24 weeks I have no name, I am a grain of sand. I have no name, I wasn't loved and that's what I was guilty of. I have no name, I am a grain of sand, one of the dead that cannot be counted. My frail legs will never be able to run on the wet grass of the morning because they were crushed before they could greet the sunrise. Nor will I be able to see the kite of colored paper as it rises in the sky. I won't be able to watch it because my eyes were destroyed when I was yet in darkness lost. (you didn't love me...) My fingers will never reach towards the crown of victory because my race was over long before I took the first steps. ( you didn't love me...) My lips and my mouth will never taste the fruit that grow on this earth because you didn't love me, you knew it was a sin but still as an unwanted fruit you threw me away. I have no name, I am a grain of sand. I have no name. I wasn't loved and that's what I was guilty of I have no name, I am a grain of sand, one of the dead that cannot be counted. My height will never be measured on the wall of my house, because my growth was stopped when no one had yet seen me. I will never stand on a hill with the spring wind touching my hair, my face. I will not step on the lands of life and I will not know the roaring of the waves of time. (you didn't love me...) I will not be carried in arms, I will not hear "I love you". I won't be able to cry and never laugh because I was on my way, but I was unloved. That's why my mother left me (if I can call her that)... the girl that made me... Red ashes still float on the sea of time. Red like my blood crying out to God, and I am certain He will hear my voice. I have no name, I am a grain of sand. I have no name. I wasn't loved and that's what I was guilty of. I have no name. I am a grain of sand, one of the dead that cannot be counted. Killers of the unborn!!! I have no name. I am a grain of sand. I have no name. I wasn't loved and that's what I was guilty of. I have no name, I am a grain of sand, one of the dead that cannot be counted. "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Edmund Burke "Open your mouth for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die." Proverbs 31:8