Chapter 7: Just Breathe

~If babies are not precious, what makes you so special?

I just want to breathe. I want to find an example of this precious life I have been told about. I want to show you the person whose life is precious. I want to say, “I found them! The precious humans! They are here!” I can not show that precious human. I believe all who are precious have already passed. Why would I say that? I am sure you must think me the greatest pessimist. I can honestly say with a true heart that if human babies are not precious enough to protect from all evil things, then precious humans do not exist, and maybe they never have.

We have all seen the stories. Some of you know someone. Most of have read the news or watched the news. One child every two days in Palestine dies due to American tax dollars given to Israel for war. How many children have washed up on the shorelines of Libya? You will never know because the powers that be insured it would never make our newspapers by banning them from the Human Rights Organization. Thank You Hillary Clinton, baby murderer extraordinaire.

I have list of children and babies who lives are not precious. They are children born to mentally ill parents, they are babies born in poverty, TRUE poverty in many parts of the world, they are children born in countries the United States feels needs a good dose of freedom, they are children, on every continent, in every town, in every school, and on every playground. Our children are not precious.

Tell me, dear heart, would you stand and tell me how precious you are, make your case, state your business, and try to prove to me that precious life exists when in fact all around me I see not even our most innocent and vulnerable are considered precious? I want to find the precious human life. I want to find the human who is considered by other humans precious enough to not exploit, not destroy, or not murder. I have not found that life. I have not found the one most worthy.

I want to make a case that life is precious just as they said in all of life’s memos but so far, I can not. The actions of a few and the actions of the many state the complete opposite of the words they speak. They tell me, life is precious as they stamp it out with same old justifications and the same old horrors they have always used to prove life, is indeed, not precious. It is not precious at all.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.