I had the pleasure of taking my daughter for a walk yesterday.
It was a beautiful spring day with a bright blue sky and just a few clouds in the sky. I thanked God for the many gifts in my life, (not the least of which I was escorting down the sidewalk) and I noticed the differences between my life with my 15-month old little girl, and Mary Schindler and her little girl.
I put on her a coat and hat before our walk since there was a nip in the air and she has a slight cold. I imagined Mary would like to be able to clothe and care for her daughter as she wished, unrestricted.
We made our way slowly down the street. I imagined Mary would like to be able to take Terri out on a beautiful spring day, to have her feel the sun on her face, the breeze in her hair.
I had a sippy cup of milk in my pocket and I gave her a drink. I realized Mary is fighting to do the same, but is being prevented, by illegal court order of feeding her daughter by mouth.
I looked down at my daughter and noticed her fingers gripping so tightly her fingertips were white. Mine were curled protectively around hers, keeping her from falling, guiding her.
And I realized I was very much like Mary after all.
Neither one of us would ever let go. And neither should we be forced to.
May God bless the Schindler family.