Flour Sack Babies
Rachel found this picture of herself, Margaret, and myself posing with other classmates while holding our flour sack babies.
Can you spot us? We are the three in the lower right corner.
This picture was taken, I think, when I was in 6th grade and Margaret and Rachel were in 5th. It might have been that I was in 5th and they were in 4th, though. That’s really not the point.
The point is where we were and what we were doing while posing for this photo on a sunny day in Lubbock.
Here is the message Rachel sent me that accompanied the picture
“Hope your 29th year is a fabulous one! I'm sure that your normal childhood prepared you well for adulthood. I mean, isn't it normal to go with your catholic school class and your flour sack babies to protest at an abortion clinic? Everyone did that, right?”
Seriously, that is what we were doing!
I had blocked this memory from my childhood, but the picture brought it all flooding back.
The priest and some of our parents took us all out, with flour sack babies in tow, to stand in front of the local abortion clinic. I suppose they hoped that our presence would act as some kind of deterrent for the woman seeking to end their unwanted pregnancies. Maybe they thought that our creepy looking homemade babies would convince them that they really did want to keep what they had inside of them. Maybe they thought that our creepy looking homemade babies would convince them that they had a baby inside of them that ought to be given a chance at life.
What probably actually happened was that the sight of our creepy ass babies scared the women even more so than they already were.
Listen, I am Pro-life. My adult brain has allowed me to think through the issue, and I have come to the pro-life decision on my own. The issue of abortion is so sticky and in my opinion, it is not so black and white. The grey areas are what keep my brain in a constant game of ping-pong, knocking the issue back and forth.
Back when this picture was taken, I was pro-life because I was told to be so. Parents instill in their children what they believe to be right or wrong and I have no beef with that. I do have beef with the fact that they used us as protesting tools before we had the chance to know if that was something we really wanted to do. I guess we all make mistakes.
It’s just another crazy story from my upbringing.
Don’t get me wrong, some of the crazy ways I was brought up turned out to be true blessings. I can not think of many things I would change in my child hood.
I leave you with a close up of my flour sack baby:
I can’t believe that damn thing did not give me nightmares.
Can you spot us? We are the three in the lower right corner.
This picture was taken, I think, when I was in 6th grade and Margaret and Rachel were in 5th. It might have been that I was in 5th and they were in 4th, though. That’s really not the point.
The point is where we were and what we were doing while posing for this photo on a sunny day in Lubbock.
Here is the message Rachel sent me that accompanied the picture
“Hope your 29th year is a fabulous one! I'm sure that your normal childhood prepared you well for adulthood. I mean, isn't it normal to go with your catholic school class and your flour sack babies to protest at an abortion clinic? Everyone did that, right?”
Seriously, that is what we were doing!
I had blocked this memory from my childhood, but the picture brought it all flooding back.
The priest and some of our parents took us all out, with flour sack babies in tow, to stand in front of the local abortion clinic. I suppose they hoped that our presence would act as some kind of deterrent for the woman seeking to end their unwanted pregnancies. Maybe they thought that our creepy looking homemade babies would convince them that they really did want to keep what they had inside of them. Maybe they thought that our creepy looking homemade babies would convince them that they had a baby inside of them that ought to be given a chance at life.
What probably actually happened was that the sight of our creepy ass babies scared the women even more so than they already were.
Listen, I am Pro-life. My adult brain has allowed me to think through the issue, and I have come to the pro-life decision on my own. The issue of abortion is so sticky and in my opinion, it is not so black and white. The grey areas are what keep my brain in a constant game of ping-pong, knocking the issue back and forth.
Back when this picture was taken, I was pro-life because I was told to be so. Parents instill in their children what they believe to be right or wrong and I have no beef with that. I do have beef with the fact that they used us as protesting tools before we had the chance to know if that was something we really wanted to do. I guess we all make mistakes.
It’s just another crazy story from my upbringing.
Don’t get me wrong, some of the crazy ways I was brought up turned out to be true blessings. I can not think of many things I would change in my child hood.
I leave you with a close up of my flour sack baby:
I can’t believe that damn thing did not give me nightmares.
posted by sarahsmile3 at
7:40 PM
9 Comments:
It kinda reminds me of the aliens from V. I even know the priest's name in the photo, I'm so full of information today.
Oh my gosh! My baby does look like the alien from V!
I loved Father James. He is such a gentle human.
Oh, I agree with you Rach. I know I sounded harsh in this post. I was trying more for dry sarcasm or something...
Thank you, Miss Bee, for saying we did a pretty good job. No, I'm not one of your parents, but sarahsmile3 might know who I am!
Ooops!
when did you start reading my blog, Dad?
HAHAHA.
I read it now and then, although I haven't read it for quite a while btw, how is Frank Brown, the smaller profit man doing?
Hey, Mr. Richard, it's Tracy Fennell from your classes and bus route way back! (Just thought I'd give a shout out.)
Hey you forgot to mention that you stole the clthes for your doll off my doll. Do you remember that?
Sister Susan
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