Sadly, another child was murdered at the hands of those regarded as their fiercest protector.  This child died not by a car accident, nor a reckless gun owner’s weapon, this little boy, like oh so many others, died by “choice." He was viciously torn apart inside his mother’s very pregnant womb. Unfortunately, his location determined his worth and destiny. Not the color of his skin. Or his character. He was only 31.5 weeks old. His grandmother brought the young mother who underwent a late term abortion inside Hope Clinic and described her ordeal to our ministry. She pulled up and got out of the dark car from Tennessee. It was obvious she was very pregnant as her belly was the size of a basketball. The deathscorts immediately swarmed her with umbrellas to conceal her advanced stage of pregnancy. Her mother looked over at our mobile unit and I called over offering her passenger another way out of her situation, and free help. The deathscorts kept filling their ears with lies and distractions from the truth of my words. “Please Momma, we have so many couples wanting to adopt your baby if you can’t provide for your baby. Have mercy on this child!” The mother peeked over the umbrella still looking at me. I begged her, “If you love your daughter, don’t make the mistake of losing both her and the baby. It’s very dangerous at this late stage of her pregnancy. Many ambulances come every week here. Your daughter may have come in your car but she may leave on a stretcher or in a body bag." The daughter went into the abortion mill. The mother turned and came over to me even though the deathscorts tried to prevent her from talking to me. “Sholonda” tearfully told me she was struggling with bringing her daughter here. She told me she watched the baby kicking her under her shirt along the drive up here.  I asked, "How far along is she?" She responded over 7 months. "In weeks" I asked, “over 31 weeks,” she said. "Is there anything wrong with the baby?" "No," she responded.  "Then why would she do this?" Sholonda said she already has an 18-month girl back home. "Where’s home?" "Memphis," she said. 

I inquired about the cost. She said around $4,000! “Does she have a Medicaid card? “Yes, but we still had to pay $500.00 in cash, Sholonda replied. “No, the Illinois taxpayers are paying for it”. I said, "You can still stop this, text her and tell her we will help her; her baby is viable, we can adopt her baby." Sholonda said she would go inside and try. I gave her my information and hugged her as I prayed for the situation. She thanked me and went inside. I left with a heavy heart. Later that evening I received a panicked message that was in her voice. It was Sholonda. "Miss Angela, her water broke!" I asked, "Where are you at?" "We’re at the ***** motel." I could hear a commotion in the background. I asked if the abortion mill gave her an emergency number. She said no. I then told her what to anticipate in a precipitated delivery, just in case. I prepared her for the delivery of her grandson.  I also told her to call 911 if she delivers in the motel room.  She promised to update me. My heart wanted to run; run into the danger, but my husband reeled me back in to reality of the corrupt system. I prayed all night for this baby and the situation. Next morning I didn’t hear anything. I was praying that she went back home but anticipated the worst.  I pulled up to the abortion mill and didn’t recognize her vehicle from yesterday. Praise God, "Maybe she's in the hospital" I thought; maybe she was holding her premature baby.

About an hour of ministering to the arrivals at Hope Clinic, I watched a disheveled girl walk out with a shower bonnet and her purple bag.  I called over, "Miss, Miss, can I give you a resource number for after care and help?" She looked over and said yes. I couldn't step on the parking lot so she walked slowly over to me. I asked her if I could pray with her, she submitted. I then heard a voice from the day before; it was the grandmother, rolling her window down. "Miss Angela, that’s Crystal." I looked in her eyes, empty; and I gave her a hug. “Pray to God for forgiveness. He can put a new song in your heart.” She thanked me and got into the car. I waited for them to pull out and she rolled the window down; her mom thanked me over and over, but I felt the need to ask Crystal a few