Teenager Sally Smith had never heard of personhood, but through relentless, tormenting guilt she would come to understand its meaning.
She and John, the love of her life, discussed getting married, but chose not to let virginity be part of the matrimonial sacrament, as it should be. The guilt of prenuptial sex soon subsided, and their lovemaking became more frequent … and more reckless.
The inevitable happened: Sally became pregnant. Shaken by this unforeseen turn of events, John took the cowardly way out and disappeared. Sally was heartbroken, but whereas time would heal this emotional wound, it would cause the guilt accompanying a choice she would soon make to become more and more unbearable.
Pregnancy controlled Sally’s entire existence. A college freshman, she could no longer focus on her studies, and despite maintaining excellent grades, chose to withdraw and end her education. Her mother demanded to know why, and realizing that soon enough her midsection would make the truth apparent, Sally had no choice but to stun her mother with the truth.
As devout Christians, her parents viewed abortion as an unforgivable sin. The notion of “viability” — the fallacious grounds on which the Roe versus Wade decision made its insidious way into the law of the land, thereby denying life to millions of human beings — was repugnant to them.
“You will have that baby,” her parents demanded. “You committed the sin of premarital sex, but you will not commit the abominable sin of abortion.”
“It’s my body,” Sally said. “I have the right to do what is necessary to insure that I have a life.”
“The life you are carrying, which began at conception, belongs to another human being,” her father said. “Terminating life at any stage of development is murder. Choose that path, and you will no longer be welcome in this Christian home.”
Determined to end a life so that she could have a life, Sally packed her things, left home, and got an abortion. For a while, she was convinced she’d done the right thing. She found a mediocre job, a place to live, and like so many of her peers, began having casual sex. She abandoned her Christian upbringing, and left her Bible on a shelf to collect dust.
But Sally hadn’t counted on the sense of guilt that would fester as the years rolled by. She needed someone to talk to, and tried calling her mother, to no avail. Her former friends who had finished college, found good jobs, and perhaps got married, didn’t associate with her anymore.
Sally began to drink, and when that destructive habit didn’t provide the escape she so desperately sought, she turned to drugs.
Soon, no opiate dulled Sally’s senses enough to prevent the recurrent images of a beautiful happy child who never was because its mother chose not to be a mother.
One dreary morning, Sally injected a lethal dose of drugs. As she took her last breath, one last time she saw … the child who never was.
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
