My 9 Week Old Baby Always Wants To Be Held It’s A Wonderful Life

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It’s A Wonderful Life

Sadly, many pro-choice advocates tend to label their counterparts primitive believers. It would seem that, to such ‘progressive’ people, all priests who oppose abortion are but a lower species, and their faithful are merely a primitive herd. However, they don’t dare to take a look at the man in the mirror, which is proof of hypocrisy and primitivism. Who is displaying a lack of tolerance in this story? Don’t they say that a lack of tolerance is typical of primitivism?

What is the definition of primitivism? Every person must decide for themself, because every person has been primitive on occasion, sooner or later in life (and by this I don’t mean being in the cradle as a child, because this is where we are at our most tolerant). We should sincerely think about it: if faith fosters love, compassion and kindness towards the other in people, then those who call all of this primitive must be the most primitive of all. Love connects people, hatred tears them apart. Each person, as a free individual, is entitled to free opinion, and life should be the judge of who’s right and who’s not. But how are we supposed to get an answer from life if we kill it to begin with?

I don’t know much about victories, but there is on thing I am sure of: compassion is the greatest of victories of the human spirit. I am writing from my own experience because, as a youth, I was a sceptic blinded by myself, by raw lust, alcohol, drugs, cynism, arrogance… and one day I arrived at the very edge of life. I thought I should simply leave this world because I never became as famous as I expected. I cheated on women who sincerely loved me due to raw lust, and then I felt His hand on my shoulder. With the voice of the wind, He said to me: “It’s not time for you to go. Even if you think that your aimless straying is over, know that you’ve only started off on the righteous path. Find your guide in poetry, and it shall take you into the hearts of many. Be the voice of those in need, be the voice of love, be the voice of freedom, and you will turn yourself and others into better people through your verses.”

Since that day, I feel much happier and fulfilled, not because I think that I’m special or free of sin, but because I realized that I am just a sinner who sincerely wants to better himself, and I can safely say that there is a higher holy force that makes us better. I do not know what He looks like, but I do know He exists, with all my heart and soul. I won’t attempt to look for Him here or there, because He teaches me that whenever you’re doing good unto others, He is within you. Ever since then, I have learned that faith accounts for a strong spirit, which is any person’s best ally in times of temptation, because weak-spirited people will be the first to fall. Who is falling?

Those who fail to show compassion for others;

Those who are ready to rebuff themselves for the sake of power and money (such people become slaves to greed);

Those who hate more than they love;

Those who want to rule over nature (A person can only feel all the enchantment of nature if they love it as they love themselves, and in synergy with nature – the sun and the wind – people shall create energy that will take them into space, to shake brotherly hands with other creatures of God);

Those who want to clone stem cells to create human beings in laboratories, while at the same time there are millions of people dying of hunger (We know that a human being is only complete with emotions, which come from the soul that can never be created by another human);

Those who hope that hunger will decimate humanity, because there is too much people in this world anyway (If that happens, the cloned man shall rule, and tears, laughter, sorrow, hope and faith will be gone, as well as humans with souls);

Those who attempt to cure the emptiness within with futile lust (To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another – Leibniz);

Those who are afraid of solitude (of the man in the mirror);

Those who consider the faithful to be primitive.

Many people like to play with statistics, but I say that those who are slaves to statistics are slowly losing the most important thing that makes them human – their emotions. Yes, life teaches us that the day we master our own emotions, we lose them forever. And, regardless of statistics, we have to listen to our hearts, which tell us that faith doesn’t teach us anything bad. Is faith in compassion a bad kind of faith? Is helping those in need a bad kind of faith? Is faith in love a bad kind of faith? Is faith in the idea that every living being has the right to live a bad kind of faith? I will allow myself to quote a great comment by a forum member at a Croatian news portal: “Those who claim that there are ten thousand abortions a year due to a “bad social situation”, rape (or forced sex in marriage), or medical indications during pregnancy, are fools. Most of these abortions are performed on the younger female population. These are mostly young girls who get pregnant, and then their mothers, who are around 40 and do not want to become grandmothers, drag them to the doctor to have an abortion. The worst thing is the fact that many of them have several abortions. The fact that it’s almost like going to the dentist is shameful. I am sickened by this society’s hypocrisy. The World Down Syndrome Day wasn’t that long ago. Would any pro-choice supporters dare to say – in public, and on that particular day – that it’s acceptable to have an abortion if tests show that the child will suffer from Down’s syndrome. And in Croatia, abortions are performed for that reason, among others! And it is legal. The test is performed during week 11 of the pregnancy, so that the pregnant woman may have an abortion in case of bad test results, as abortion is legal up to week 19. What is the difference between such a pregnant woman and the Nazis, who considered the ill to be degenerate and freaks that should be extinguished?”

Why am I so touched by this unfortunate abortion story? Because I am an extramarital child of a poor mother with a rich soul. My late mother told me at her deathbed that my mother was a great dreamer, and that I must have inherited that trait from her. Grandma admitted that her young daughter was abandoned by her partner, who left her behind pregnant, with the promise that he would return for her as soon as he makes some money up north in the Big Apple, and he would take her to paradise, but she never heard from him again. Grandmother tried to talk her into having an abortion, because they were barely able to survive, even without a child, but at that point she joined her hands in prayer and, looking up, she said: “Thank God, she wouldn’t listen to me… your mother is a hero, she took up the toughest of jobs to be able to raise you… and when social services wanted to take you away and give you up for adoption to a wealthy couple from a big northern city, she said that it would happen only over her dead body!”

My mother drew her indomitable strength from the Texas prairie. She always stood upright like a cactus, she withstood the winter, the wind, the draughts – to cut a long story short, the capricious winds of destiny never drove her to her knees (sadly, the man who left her pregnant and left off to New York was a weak-spirited coward, even though he was Texan). When I went to football games as a youth, I used to compare the football coach to my mother. I remember the words of the late coach, who was adored by the fans almost as if he was a saint. He himself was a fan of the working class, and he used to tell his players: “We always have to think and play from game to game, because this is the credo of the people of this city. We are a reflection of the community we live in. People have to fight in order to survive. Just like them, as soon as we stop doing it, we don’t stand a chance. People identify themselves with us, we are a source of their hope, and we simply can’t let them down. What we feel when we take the field isn’t pressure. Pressure is when these people go home lacking the money to feed their kids.”

Yes, my mother was from a poor family, but her soul is noble, and that’s why I’m always proud to say that my mother is blue-blooded and nobility, because there is no greater nobility than love. I can proudly claim before the world that I have inherited my love of the earth, not just the golden Texas prairie, but our one only planet Earth, from my mother. SACRIFICE, modesty, humility, respect, hard work, faith… that’s the motto, not just of my humble family, but of most people across the proud Texas prairie. There is no government or money that could keep me from fighting for nature, and this is also why I fight against bankers, oil corporations, greedy dictators, political castes (by this, I don’t mean political visionaries like myself, who fight to save nature) because, lest we forget, global warming isn’t a natural process, but a product of human greed. I remember my mother singing the old “Tennessee Waltz” to me when I was a kid. If you listen to the immortal Patti Page, you will know the kind of singing voice my mother had when she was young. I’ll never forget watching her sing and look through a small window into the distance, like a golden bird locked in a cage. But instead of her, her baby bird left the cage and flew off into the world in his early youth. What sacrifice it must be to voluntarily imprison your youth and beauty into a small dark room for the sake of your child, I think while wistfully looking at a pale family photo. One Christmas Eve I asked her if she ever considered an abortion, and she looked into the distance and said in a tired voice: “I must admit that there were moments when I blamed all my troubles on God, but my faith was stronger… My faith kept me from falling, and an angel who whispered to me that I should look for work as a cleaner in the maternity ward. Those newborn children gave me the strength to stand up and fight. Yes, son, there were troubled times ahead, but I saw an ocean of craving in your big blue eyes that made it worth living for… “

After listening to this story, I often thought how great it would have been if all the newborn children had mothers like that. I never turned out to be wealthy, or a great politician, but I wrote some poems, novels and plays that made it worth to live. After all, who gave us the right to decide whether to have an abortion or not?! It’s not important what kind of country or family a child is born into, it might still become a great journalist, poet, actor, philosopher or humanist politician some day, someone who will make the world a better place to live. Or else, they might become the most important thing – a simple honorable human being.

Yes, life is wonderful in deed, and when you think that there is no way out, just remember Frank Capra’s classic movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The younger generation should watch that movie in school, because the movie, with acting virtuoso James Stewart, teaches us that life is worth fighting for even when you think that there is no way out and, what’s most important, how to remain human. Yes, this movie proves the positive power art can have on the human soul, and this is why the world should pay more attention to art that enriches all the values that make us human. Literature and motion pictures with noble messages deserve more attention from people, instead of slavery to raw profit.

It is common knowledge that every person has the freedom to choose between good and evil. When I read a true story about a homeless man in New York, who found a bag full of money and returned it to the owner, I was proud to be human, but when I read that the same man became homeless due to bankers’ greed, I am ashamed of being human. It is interesting to find out that the same story happened twice, in the U.S.A. and in Croatia. When journalists asked the Croatian homeless man in Split why he returned the money, he just shrugged and humbly replied: “Even though I lost everything, partly because of my own mistakes, and partly because of the bank’s usuries, all I want is to remain a faithful and honest man.” Yes, this man is a hero of mine. Of course, I do not promote poverty. I want to be successful, but I do not want to lose my soul in the process. I always vote for capitalism with a human face and a human soul. Yes to success, but no to greed! This is my life’s motto, lest we forget that greed is a disease much more dangerous than the pest or cholera. The Croatian political caste is proof of greed being a dark bottomless pit. Imagine a small and beautiful country blessed by mother nature, with a thousand islands and a clear azure sea, fertile lowlands and paradise green valleys, yet with many thousands people, both old and young, going through garbage bins because of the political caste’s greed. Now try to imagine how endless the politicians’ greed is: kind people who want to donate food to the poor must pay taxes to the state on any food or other goods they donate to the poor. Thus, the paradox is that it is easier to just throw away the food into garbage than to donate it to the poor. This political caste (the “reformed” communist party) isn’t satisfied by millions paid in bribery by “investors”, or by selling state-owned companies with brand names for peanuts, like insurance companies and banks, and other malversations. No, they simply must steal whatever little the paupers have left. Isn’t greed really an accursed disease? It doesn’t simply destroy the body, no, it also destroys the human soul. It is a dark bottomless pit that can never be filled, and it feeds on human souls. This is what my noble mother taught me. She would never allow herself to be separated from the family brooch she inherited, displaying a smiling Christ figure. There are many people who look down on people like her, and they think that gold credit cards give them the right to consider themselves the betters of the poor faithful. Well, they’re wrong! The worst kind of poverty is the poverty of the spirit. Those who are working their way towards power and money, looking down on the faithful, should know that those who ridicule faith are those who call His name the loudest on their deathbed. I do not support fanaticism in anything, and certainly not in faith, because the Creator teaches us that tolerance and love for others is the best way towards faith. So, even when I criticize greedy people, I do not hate them. Instead, I am doing it from the depths of my soul, hoping for them to see the world through the eyes of the faithful someday.

History teaches us that even the greatest among unbelievers experienced a sincere conversion at the end of their lives (and I don’t mean Pharisees). On his deathbed, Jean-Paul Sartre said to his best friend: “You know, Francois, I was a great skeptic all my life as far as faith is concerned… but there must be a higher deity that enriches the human soul with all those values I was searching for like a castaway on the ocean of temptation… “

Yes, and I would add: taking a step at a time on the path to true freedom isn’t easy, as the great Plato taught us. Weak-spirited people will choose their safety in the dark, while those who are blessed with faith search for light, becoming genuine messengers of freedom in their lifetime. Those who close the doors on a child at its conception should know that this is how they turn of the light of life on themselves.

Walter William Safar

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