I believe that the value of life can never be measured or understood. To some life is precious; every day given to us is a gift, but to some it is burden; every day lived is a chore, and still to some, life is a symbol; to which life can be ended at any time to prove a point, or teach a lesson. This lesson taught not better by anyone than my brother.
They say that abortion is a choice, for the woman, but what of the man? To abort that child is to be rid of a little piece of the woman, and man as well. They say it has devastating effects on the woman, but what of the man? This point was proved on March 29, 2005 when my brother hung himself. She said it was nothing; not even a baby yet that they didn’t need it anyway. He said that was a part of him and if she was going to kill part of him she may as well kill all of him. That is exactly what he did, committed suicide.
Life, whether it is that of the undeveloped baby to 18 year old dad-to-be, cannot be measured by man, but instead gauged by love.
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