I lost my little sister to the cruelty of abortion. She was killed when she was three years younger than me, killed in the same womb I once called home. This picture is a reality for me, and it hurts to have to imagine the childhood we could have shared together, a time that we should both hold fond memories of. Raised as an only child, my formative years were dramatically different than what they could, what they should, have been.
Not only was my sister erased, but so were my nieces and nephews and their children and their children’s children. Abortion not only kills an innocent child, it kills generations, it kills relationships, it kills hope, and it kills love.
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