The following parable was forwarded to us from Britain via Paul and Sheila Formby of Vancouver, B.C.
In the peaceful city of Vancouver, a new “clinic” opened up, using surgical instruments to kill young children.
A clergyman passing by saw the new clinic, and was very sorry. But he was a busy man. He consulted his appointment book, and saw that he had no free time before Wednesday of next week. So, shaking his head sadly, he drove on. And then thirty children were killed there.
The chairman of the board of Amalgamated Pro-Life Groups Incorporated, also passed by. He saw the new clinic and stopped to consider it. Moved by what he saw, he gave a stirring address about the sordid history of legal abortion, and the various methods used, for which he later received a bronze plaque. And he drove on. Then thirty children were killed there.
A young woman with green hair and startling clothes stopped at the clinic, then went in. She pulled out all the suction cannulas in the operating room and stuck flowers in the nozzles. She poured a tin of treacle into the suction jars and then placed some ivy plants inside. Finally she chained herself to the operating table and ate a carton of yogurt. She would not leave, she said. No children were killed there. Who was a good neighbor to the children?