What happens when evil meets purity and light?

One gray, dreary afternoon during the 40 Days for Life vigil, I witnessed evil meeting purity and light. 

Arriving at the sidewalk of our area’s abortion facility alone, I was struck by the sight of the escorts gathered like vultures waiting for their next victim, and relieved to see my friend Chris show up in his pickup a few minutes later, with more fortification quickly following. Despite the warmth among us, bleakness pervaded. 

Toward the end of my shift, however, everything changed when a van pulled up carrying a swath of adorable little boys. From a distance, as they piled out, I could see their smiling faces and words on their handmade signs. 

“Life is fun,” said one. “Life is a gift!” said another. “Every baby should have a life!” a third said, showing a bundled baby smiling. “Honk for Life” read a fourth sign colored in orange, and next to that, a small boy held another: “Don’t Kill Babies,” with a smiley face. Another boy, around 4, proudly held one that said, “We love babies!”  

“Those are adorable!” I said to Chris, captivated now by the young ones parading past the escorts on the way to the west end of the sidewalk. Almost immediately, a happy honk emerged from a passing semi from the highway, followed by the boys’ cheers.  

The sun stayed hidden but the sidewalk suddenly turned bright. “There’s more of us,” an older boy said walking toward the others. “We love coming here!”  

Another vehicle followed, bringing a group of girls. “We were here earlier,” explained one of the mother chaperones. “We left for lunch and Mass, and now we’re back.” They’d come from Greenbush, Minn., nearly three hours away. “We’re so glad you’re here,” I said. 

Life. Joy. Youth. There’s nothing better when praying at this lifeless corner. It’s as if God called down from heaven: “All right, enough of the grim faces. I’m sending in troops of love.” 

The honks of support continued intermittently, but in between, several cars passed, windows rolled down, and screamed like demons might at the kids, even startling an escort. A woman who was alone barreled down the street, did a U-turn right in the middle, and pulled up near the curb alongside the children. She proceeded to yell from her car, accusing them for judging others when our foster-care system is such a hot mess. “How dare you!” she said. 

I walked over to defend the beautiful crew of young people, experiencing her palpable anger firsthand. She wouldn’t relent, until one of the chaperones yelled, gently, “You were made with a purpose!” She drove off soon thereafter with those words ringing in her ears. 

Conversing shortly afterward with my friend Ginger, who’d stayed near the facility entrance, she shared that as the kids filled the sidewalk, she noticed how the lead abortion escort seemed tongue-tied. “It was like he wanted to say something,” to chastise the youngsters and moms, perhaps, “but few words came.” 

Later that evening, I shared with my husband, Troy, about what had happened, describing how quickly the sidewalk had brightened, and the spiritual warfare had intensified, as these dear, young souls, showed up with their smiles and laughter. 

Pondering this, he offered thoughts about why the escort had quieted at the sight of the kids, and why some passersby could only scream and shout obscenities at their presence. “If they had children of their own and an adult attacked them, their reflex would be to protect them,” he said. “But it’s as if, in that moment, he realized he was the adult attacking children—these little ones who were pure and without sin—and it silenced him.” 

It was evil meeting pure innocence and grace, Troy continued, and in such a moment, evil has nothing to offer. “They were caught in their own lie, as if to say, ‘I love my own kid, but here I am, fighting to kill someone else’s kid.’” The two realities cannot coincide happily. 

Anyone with any measure of love in their heart, Troy continued, would respond this way. “It drew out of him the horror of what he was attacking, and he had no words.” 

That day, we witnessed it firsthand. When evil meets purity—when the illumination of God’s love arrives, and truth with it—evil slithers away.  

I am so grateful for the moms who took the time to help their children write words of love from their pure hearts, cram into bustling vehicles, spend nearly six hours on the road, and then, return again to continue praying and spreading hope with us.  

Thanks be to God for the little ones who bring light.