I walked into Walgreens, sighing at the warmth of the store. Snow was falling in thick sheets outside which caused nervousness for many. I had good skills with a car, but in that weather I was most wary.
Not many people were inside and I was glad. I needed to pick something up from the pharmacy. My medicine was a private affair; I desperately hoped no one would argue with me about it.
I walked up to the pharmacy counter. A older lady with short gray hair greeted me.
“Hello, how may I help you?” she asked; a sweet smile followed.
“Pick-up for Susan Blase, ” I replied.
The lady disappeared from view for a moment, returning with a small bag.
“Here you are, ” she said. Sadly, she glanced at what the medicine was and frowned.
“Oh, dear, ” I could hear her mumble.
“You sure you want these? ” she inquired concerned.
“Yes, ” I answered tartly.
I grabbed the bag, paid for them, and turned to go.
Behind me stood a man, maybe sixty or seventy.
“I would discard of those if I were you, ” he advised. He had a stooped build, and a cane was positioned in one of his hands. Glasses rested on the edge of his nose. He wore a flannel shirt, bright blue suspenders, and tan pants.
“You have no idea what they are, sir, ” I snapped, holding my bag from his view.
“I do know, dear one, they’re pills to stop a little one’s heart, ” he explained. His words jarred me unexpectedly.
“You have no right, as I said, to tell me what to do, or what not to do!” I barked and began to walk away.
Suddenly the man seemed to re-appear in front of me.
“As I said throw away the pills, ” he ordered calmly and collectively.
“I paid good money for this, ” I said. I felt my face growing hot from anger.
He rested on his cane and began what appeared to be a long speech.
“You have precious cargo inside of you, Susan. God gave you that child and it’s up to you to make sure he or she lives. Those pills of yours kills the cargo. Do you really want that? Besides you might just really love the child, ” he said.
“I don’t want it, ” I said.
“You better do I say thus; don’t take the pills! I do not want His children to be murdered before they can even see the world. I take care of those little ones who live. I cry at the sight of the mothers who do such things as this!” he cried.
“Who are you anyway?” I said annoyed.
He smiled and said, ” The name’s Mr. Gabriel. Nice to meet ya.”
Then he was gone.
Nine months later . . .
I decided not to take the birth control pills, and I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She became my world. I named her Gabriella. When I held her in my arms, I thought I saw the same old man outside the hospital room’s window . . .
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