Baby in a Jar
“There’s a jar on the shelf with a little baby in it!” the girl nervously whispered. Several of us were gathered around one of the lab stations in our seventh-grade science class when my wide-eyed classmate revealed her gruesome discovery.
“There’s a jar on the shelf with a little baby in it!” the girl nervously whispered.
Several of us were gathered around one of the lab stations in our seventh-grade science class when my wide-eyed classmate revealed her gruesome discovery.
Of course we couldn’t believe it. We all knew those crowded bookshelves in the far corner of the room. They were filled with jars of frogs and snakes and other former living things that now stood preserved in some brownish yellow liquid, made cloudy and dense by their very slowly decomposing bodies. Every specimen had that same sickening hue, long void of life and whatever color it once had.
A friend and I made our way to the back of the room amidst the clinking of test tubes and mayhem while the class of 12-year-olds tried to organize in little groups for the day’s lab activity. The year was 1974. It was a time when bunson burners, formaldehyde, scalpels and preteens regularly interacted in public school science classrooms.
It was also the year after it became legal in America to kill pre-born human babies — and put them in jars on dusty shelves along with mice and frogs.
Was it really legal? You know, to kill a baby? To put it in a jar on a shelf? These questions swamped my mind as I spotted the jar in disbelief. Crammed inside the pint-sized tomb and immersed in that same sickening liquid was a perfectly formed little baby. A human baby.
Abortion was not discussed in middle school in those days. But our gentle, kind science teacher thought the truth about the product of abortion should be known. I remember him softly saying, “God rest his soul,” as he joined us at the bookshelves in our silent contemplation. He didn’t need to expound. He didn’t have to.
But to this day I wish I knew more about the helpless little baby whose life had been snuffed out. While others were preoccupied with where our teacher got the baby, I was struck by his dead stillness. I marveled at his tiny toes, and the perfectly formed delicate rib cage barely visible through taut, translucent skin. And I had the unshakeable feeling that his death was very, very wrong.
Something is very, very wrong in a country where little human babies continue to be legally slaughtered. If more people saw their little bodies and witnessed that they are not formless blobs of tissue as Planned Parenthood tells young, unsuspecting mothers in the midst of emotional turmoil, then perhaps our American holocaust would finally end.
But the truth is largely hidden.
Thank God the Center for Medical Progress (CMP) has bravely infiltrated Planned Parenthood clinics and meetings over the last several years and carefully documented the grisly truth through undercover video.
Although California’s attorney general, to whom Planned Parenthood made numerous campaign contributions, recently charged the CMP citizen journalists with 15 criminal counts for allegedly illegally recording conversations with employees of the baby abortuaries, many of the videos can be viewed at CenterForMedicalProgress.org.
The videos and hundreds of pages of documents reveal for all the world to see how Planned Parenthood not only kills babies but often has them chopped into pieces and sold like chicken parts to those who traffic human remains.
Oh, and if you are a taxpayer, you are helping to fund the atrocities.
Find out what you can do to help persuade Congress to stop paying Planned Parenthood and to work toward protecting the pre-born and their unsuspecting moms.
Visit CenterForMedicalProgress.org and click on “Take Action.”
Consider this column your baby in a jar moment.
