Hope Aborted

By Terrill G.

It was 1973, the women's rights movement has led to the Supreme Court ruling to legalize abortions. This is the story of three women who face the same crisis: unexpected pregnancies. Cheryl and Rebecca are both Christians who are guided by their faith. Mary, the third woman, is seeking a quick fix. What will the two college girls and fifty-three year old Rebecca do? Abortion? Adoption? Become a single parent? Follow their journeys as the consequences of their choices are confronted later in their lives. Who will seek and find God's forgiveness and positive meaning to their lives? Who will allow regret to alter her life?

To the young reader (forty and under), this story is a glimpse of our society before common use of laptops, cell phones, texting, and the Internet. You will see how institutions in our society-marriage, family, and value for human life-evolved from Judeo-Christian morals to the choices advocated today. Will our women be molded by present-day social mores, or will they claim values and forgiveness that can only come from God? Do you believe faith and trust in Christ can bring you peace and happiness? Enjoy the journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098088897

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Hope Aborted

Terrill G.

Copyright © 2021 by Terrill G.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Meet Cheryl’s Family

Sunday Morning at the Swensons

Rebecca’s Sunday Dinners

Conference Promises Revealed

Pajama Party Concerns

Unexpected Announcement

From the Pulpit

Mary’s New Friend

Telling the Kids, Decision Made

New Surroundings and Friends

Morale Dilemma or Not

Flight to Best Solution

Violation and Unexpected Betrayal

What Is Best?

New Job to Help Healing

Farewell to College Friends

Graduation and Goodbye

Meet Mr. Campbell’s Class

Pregnancy, Birth, and True Christian Love

Love Renewed and Surprising Consequences

New Diagnosis: Facing Death

Women’s Conference Confessions

Dedicated to all adopted children whose mother chose to give them a chance to know God’s plan for his or her life.

Chapter 1

Meet Cheryl’s Family

As anticipated, their teenage daughter, Cheryl, was the last passenger off the church bus. Her rumpled clothes and matted red curls indicated that she had napped on the trip home. This was the child who, as an infant, had trouble falling asleep, thus prompting her anxious parents to swaddle her and drive around the block until she was deep in sleep. The hum of the engine and the rhythm of the tires on smooth pavement always worked; she was out in record time!

Cheryl acknowledged her parents with a hearty wave as they were opening the rear door of the family’s station wagon. Cheryl, now moving at a faster pace, retrieved her backpack from the pile at the rear of the bus; hugged her closest friends that was nearly everyone, including the driver, Pastor Joe; and thanked the adult counselors. She made her way eagerly toward her waiting family, struggling as she balanced her sleeping bag, pillow, and a large canvas suitcase. Hugs, bags loaded, and soon they were homebound.

There were many questions and enthusiastic responses from the returning teen; in fact, she talked enthusiastically all the way home, approximately forty-five minutes.

The two-story white frame house with newly painted green shutters and a long meandering front porch that wrapped around to the breezeway and the garage. Home, always a comforting welcomed sight. Most of the time, Cheryl was a real homebody; her house was the one where most of her friends chose to congregate. A spacious and charming house was enjoyed, but mostly they came for the hospitality of her parents. They were always available to anyone who needed any kind of help, needed a good meal, or just wanted someone to listen.

Once the wagon was parked in the long double-wide driveway, Dad became the bellboy, while Mom and Cheryl wobbled slowly up the creek-rock walkway, arm in arm, finally reaching the front door. Once inside the house, Sharon, Cheryl’s kind and loving mother, announced, Dinner will be in about four hours. If you want a snack or a nap, go ahead; I know you are tired.

Where is Mr. Popularity? Cheryl glanced into the kitchen looking for her older brother, high school senior John David, I am disappointed he isn’t here to greet me.

He is at football practice, a special session called by the coach. I am sure you will know when he arrives. Sharon looked at the kitchen clock. It should be in the next thirty minutes. Then she lugged the suitcase full of dirty clothes into the utility room adjacent to the kitchen.

Yes, he is great at making a grandstand entrance, she continued as she reached the frig door. She grabbed the familiar glass bottle and an opener. I have to prepare a testimony for the service on Sunday night. I’ll take a coke and work on my testimony in my room, Cheryl explained.

She retrieved her backpack and sleeping bag from the bottom of the stairs. As she ascended the stairs, she yelled back, Call me when dinner is on the table. With her backpack over her shoulder, she climbed to her second-story room. The door was open. Everything was dusted and in place unlike the squalor she had left a week ago. She hollered down the stairs, Mom, tell the maid I appreciate her cleanup job. I trust she didn’t read my diary!

Sharon, standing in the hallway, responded playfully, I am not sure. I did hear her mumbling something about boring reading. She paused and chuckled to herself. You are welcome.

Cheryl fell on the bed, slinging her backpack to the floor. Before she had time to turn over, she was attacked. Not hugs, just licky, sloppy kisses. Oh no! Stop, you goofy dog. Calm down. Yes, I know. I missed you too! After consoling her pet, Cheryl reached for a notepad and a pen. She and her loving companion, Frisky, settled on her comfy floral bedspread. Using all her pillows, she propped herself in a sitting position so she could write. Frisky curled next to her side.

Downstairs, Mom emptied the dirty camp clothes from the suitcase into the hamper in the laundry room; washing was done on Monday. Sharon checked the fridge for the needed ingredients for dinner. She didn’t see her husband, Ben, but she heard the roar of the lawn mower on the front lawn. She knew he had been anxious to get the mowing done while it was still daylight. She placed the dishes and stemware on the gigantic family-size table in the dining room adjacent to the kitchen; they would use the good china tonight.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the direction of the garage breezeway. The bass thumping of the radio shook the ornate flower urns near the kitchen door. Finally, the engine shut down; the musical assault had ended. A few minutes later, the oldest child of the family, John David, entered, barreling through the door as if being pursued by a wild animal.

Hey, gorgeous. What’s cookin’? He gave his mother a playful hug. Is your sweet daughter home? He noticed the decorative dining table. I see we are going all out to celebrate her return even though she has only been gone six days.

Sibling rivalry was always apparent when John spoke of his younger sister. It was a game he played since he was about six, quickly realizing that it agitated his mother. Perhaps he did it because he didn’t get the red curls or the natural athletic ability in the family, just deep blue eyes and an outstanding brain. At least, that is the story he loved to perpetuate. He was a senior in high school, football and baseball player, and president of the class of 1960.

Yes, your sister is home, resting upstairs in her room. And yes, we are celebrating her return, just as we did when you came back from baseball camp last spring. We celebrated both of our children in this house. Sharon was quick to respond to his favorite-child accusing tone.

John David loved telling everyone that perfect Cheryl was the favorite child. His mother fought back by choosing to ignore him or reassuring him he was very insightful.

Have I got time to shower? I have a date at eight. Hey, I’m a poet and don’t know it. Get it, date at eight? He removed his hat and took a low bow.

You certainly have a way with words, Sharon paused. "Dinner will be at six, as always. So yes, you have time to shower, especially since you know I wouldn’t allow you at the table in your present condition. Please, shower and soon!" she bantered while holding her nose; the combination of sweat and manly body odor was most unpleasant.

As you wish, Queen Mother. I’ll be off like a flash. His sound effects could be heard as he climbed the steps, three at a time.

He paused at his sister’s door; it was shut, so he behaved unusually by passing without knocking or calling out to her. He opened the door to his room then began slinging his clothes toward the hamper as he stripped for the shower.

*****

The mowing brought the reward of a large cold glass of lemonade. Here, honey. It is really humid today. Great, I see you are almost done. Drink up.

Ben silenced the small yet deafening motor then wiped his brow with the bottom of his oversize shirt. He reached for the glass. In grateful, heavy breathing, he replied, I think we need to get one of those self-propelled mowers. This one is so heavy, and it wears me out.

Do you remember how hard it was to cut with the old manual mower? I don’t know how you did it. Sharon attempted to comfort him.

Ben gulped the entire contents of the glass, gave a large sigh, and returned the empty glass to the waiting hand of his wife. Did I see John?

Yes, he is honoring us with his presence before leaving on a date. He didn’t say whom. Guess it is that O’Connor girl. She seems to be his latest. Sharon turned to go. Dinner at six. Are you going to finish here by that time?

I am almost done with the front. I thought I would save the backyard for John. He needs to do some of the yard work. He can do it tomorrow before his next date. Ben reached for the handle on the rope starter.

Sounds like a plan. Don’t forget to tell him before he leaves. Sharon went back to the kitchen.

As announced, dinner was on the table at six. The family gathered at the dining table. Holding hands, Ben offered grace. They all echoed amen.

Aye, roast beef, mashed potatoes, cooked carrots, and homemade clover leaf rolls. You should go away more often, sister dear. John piled his plate high as each dish circled the table.

My favorite meal. Thanks, Mom, this is great, a Sunday meal on Friday night. It looks wonderful, and believe me, I will enjoy it. Camp food wasn’t exactly gourmet, Cheryl commented then paused to acknowledge her older sibling, I knew you would miss me. I bet you counted the days before my return. I tried to forget you, but several of the girls on the trip kept asking about you. Have you dated all the girls in the youth group?

I figure when you are as handsome and suave as myself, like a good, creamy peanut butter, spread it around! John laughed then reach for a second helping of potatoes. What girls are you referring to? he asked as an afterthought.

Sharon intervened, Hey, this is Cheryl’s special dinner, and we want to hear about her week. Tell us, sweetie, what was your favorite memory?

Yeah, we are holding our breath, anticipating your tales of mystery and intrigue, John teased.

John, if you had gone with us, you would have some stories to add to the conversation. You missed a lot. Cheryl smiled.

John had missed the annual trip for the first time. Between practice and his part-time job, he couldn’t get away for the week.

Seriously, no squabbles, Sharon warned. Cheryl, again, what was your favorite event?

Cheryl had exciting news, but she wasn’t ready to share it with the family at this moment. So she responded concerning another event, I enjoyed meeting some of our missionaries. There were about ten on furlough and available this summer. They were visiting youth camps around the states as a part of their leave. There was this one girl, Rachel, who was working in Nigeria, teaching English in a Christian school. She was only twenty-three, and from the photos she showed, she was the only white person in the whole community. I wondered how that would feel. She paused. My favorite was a young man. He, too, was in his first term as a medical missionary.

No doubt young and good-looking with a great bedside manner, interrupted John.

Funny, brother. Real funny. He was a young doctor in one of our denomination’s hospitals. It was amazing to hear him share about his patients. Did you know there are so many diseases that no longer exist in our country, but they kill thousands of Africans every year? He was extremely enthusiastic, and he encouraged us to consider a profession as a medical missionary. He challenged us to pray about the calling God had for each of us. He explained there is a great need at this time for Christian workers in our mission fields.

Ambitious undertaking, several years beyond college and medical training. Plus, you would be away more than just six days! Ben spoke as a loving father. However, you never know what the Lord has planned for your life until He opens the door.

Do you think I would make a good medical missionary, Mom? Cheryl buttered a second roll.

I believe you can be anything. God has given you a good mind, a loving heart, and a deep faith. That certainly sounds like a foundation for some profession that would allow you to serve your Lord, Sharon spoke from her mind, not her heart.

Giving up her children to serve on the other side of the globe had never occurred to her. Of course, she knew they were growing up; college was a year away for John and three years for Cheryl. Time was at hurricane velocity yet blissfully full of numerous blessed moments. She was embarrassed by her selfish thoughts of keeping the kids close.

They finished their conversation and had strawberry shortcake for dessert, then Sharon and Cheryl cleared the table, Ben was instructing John as to when and how he was to complete the backyard mowing. John reminded his father that he worked the five-to-ten shift at his part-time job at a Mexican restaurant on Saturdays. Ben assured him that the mowing could be completed in less than an hour, plenty of time before he needed to report to the restaurant—that is, if you don’t snooze until two.

Ben joined the women in the kitchen, offering to help dry the dishes. The three of them got the task done in short order.

John passed by. Tootles family, I am off to the movies with Betty Lou.

Is that the O’Connor girl? Sharon inquired.

No, Mom, that was last week. This is Betty Lou Hardy, a new girl from Bama.

How special, Cheryl mocked with an exaggerated Southern accent. A real Southern belle! Cheryl snarled and exaggerated a Southern drawl as she spoke and batted her eye lashes.

Midnight curfew, don’t forget. And mowing in the morning, Ben reminded him.

John snapped his heels, offered a good-natured flourish of salutes, and then disappeared through the kitchen door, his white bucks glowing.

What he lacks in confidence he always manages to cover with his sense of humor and style. You have to admit, he is very popular. Cheryl shook her head slowly side to side. She loved her brother; however, some of his behaviors were not ones she envied.

Popularity is fleeting. I don’t want him seriously dating anyone as young as he is. The temptation is heightened by his hormones, confided a concerned mother.

Don’t hold your breath. We Wilson men don’t do the choosing. There will be a female who will come his way and snag him, just like I was lured into romance. Ben smiled brazenly.

Sharon, feeling playful, shook the half-filled sponge his way as he shielded his face with the dish towel. This led to loving horseplay, affectionate hugs, and kisses.

Both kids found such behavior revolting for people their parents’ age. Cheryl resorted to her