One of the most moving experiences I've had in the past couple of years occurred in a tiny, dingy office above a grocery store in a most unsavoury downtown Toronto neighbourhood. In fact, when I left that office about 8 PM on a chilly November evening, my two companions and I were about to hail a taxi when one drove up, stopped and asked us what we were doing in that area at that time of night. "You really don't fit in here," he said and gave us a ride back to our airport hotel. We had been visiting with Robert Hinchey, a sidewalk counsellor with Aid to Women, a pro-life ministry adjacent to an abortion clinic. Robert, who lives in a small room above Aid to Women, spends his time trying to help women and save babies about to enter the abortuary. I had encountered Robert a few months earlier when I was covering the story of his experience being pepper-sprayed by a women's shelter employee. She was trying to stop Robert from helping a young woman who had decided not to have an abortion. Robert had escorted the 18-year-old immigrant to a doctor's office to stop the preliminary stages of the abortion, and the shelter employee sprayed Robert in the face right in the doctor's office. The whole clinic had to be evacuated. The police initially denied anything had happened, and after several weeks finally charged the woman with assault and eventually she received an absolute discharge.
However, over the course of several weeks, I had been impressed with Robert's quiet, polite manner and his obvious devotion to helping women in this most agonizing situation. Many were immigrants, often they were illegally in the country, he told me, and they were scared. They feared being deported if the pregnancy was discovered and the agencies they dealt with, including abortion clinics, confirmed their fears. They were often abandoned by their partners and felt they had no choice but to abort. As it happened, I was planning to attend the national pro-life conference in Toronto that fall and asked if I could meet him. He suggested I come to see the clinic and so that's how Patty Nixon, and Henny vander Gugten and I found our way to Aid to Women. We spent about two hours with Robert. He showed us around the crowded, unimpressive little space. The walls were covered with dozens and dozens of little snapshots of babies and moms. "These are some of the babies we've saved," he said. "We keep in touch with many of them. Lots of them come to visit us or phone." Then, we all sat down on the uncomfortable chairs and Robert began telling us stories about his dozen years as a sidewalk counsellor. He talked about how hard it was to get up and out on the sidewalk every morning. (The sidewalk in front of Aid to Women is under a bubble zone, that is, it is illegal to picket, pray, and do any pro-life work in the area.) "I like to be down there early," he said, "so that I can talk to them before they go in the door." He told us that you never know what to expect. Sometimes the women are alone, sometimes the boyfriend or husband is with them and often, nowadays, the clinic has hired "escorts" to keep Robert and his fellow counsellors from luring them away. Robert speaks gently to them, inviting them in for coffee and a chat. He tells them that they have options, that they don't have to go through with the abortion. He readily admits that some women confuse his office with the abortion clinic. Several times all three of us were teary-eyed listening to him. His most revealing story, for me, was about a young couple who he approached as they walked toward the abortion clinic. He asked them if he could help them, if they wanted to talk about the abortion. He was surprised when they readily agreed to accompany him upstairs. They saw the fetal development charts and listened to his pitch. With very little resistance they agreed to proceed with the pregnancy. Later on, after they'd had the baby, he asked them why they hadn't argued or fought with him about the abortion. The woman told him that she had been conflicted about the abortion. "I prayed the night before I was supposed to have the abortion. I asked God to send me a sign so I would know what I should do. When you walked up to us and asked if you could help, I knew that you were that sign from God." My mouth fell open when he said that. First of all, I was surprised at such a prayer. But why should I be? Surely, abortion must be the worst possible decision a woman will ever face and it makes absolute sense that in those bleakest moments one looks to every possible source of comfort and reassurance. Secondly, however, I realized that for many of these desperate women, they are seeking a way out of their dilemma and can see no lifeline offered. Everyone in their orbit-family, friends, health care professionals, social workers-is telling them to end the pregnancy. As they walk the gangplank into that clinic, who is there to save them? Without the Robert Hincheys of this world, and they are few, these women feel helpless and their babies die. "Step out in faith, and be present and prayerful at places where babies are being killed," says Robert. Alberta has two private abortion clinics, one in Edmonton and one in Calgary. There are prayer vigils at each one of them on a somewhat regular basis. I am going to try to follow Robert's advice to be "present and prayerful" at these places where babies are killed. I invite others to do so as well. You may be the sign, the answer to one woman's prayer, and the reason for one baby to be born.
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