The Cell Phone

Curiosity and boredom took me on a walk about my property, noting the blooms and the weeds, the tunnels made by chipmunks and the pits made by wild hogs. The work never ends in preserving and maintaining, in promoting growth and beauty, in fighting the unwanted and harmful.

The cell phone rang. The cell phone is a wonderful instrument to have in an emergency, a necessity really. The cell phone is a cheap tool that hammers at you at other times.

The young lady was hot and passionate already in her quest, even as I answered her call. She needed information, knowledge of medical history that has the potential of impacting her life, if what she claims turns out to be true. My lazy stroll in my comfortable and natural surroundings morphed into a march toward verbal war and into a troubled mind.

Above and beyond her offensive remarks and aggressive communication, my fear rests not upon my shoulders but upon the shoulders of the child she carries.

Her concern for genetic defects and stress that she believes will lead to her miscarriage may be natural to a first-time mother, or any mother but of this I have no experience.   The gift of motherhood was never given to me and nor will it, at this stage in my life.

The child she carries I hope will learn quickly that guilt for ruining a mother’s life is not a part of love.  The child she carries I hope will learn before damage is done that it is not the child’s responsibility to manage the mother’s emotions.  The child she carries I hope will learn, and never forget, that there is a Father waiting with open arms to receive him and to love him unconditionally.

I ended the call long before the mother was ready to disconnect.  I replaced it carefully in my pocket, feeling as if I had just been handed the wrong end of a taser gun.


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