Hear Their Tiny Cries

One man has a new perspective after discovering a tiny baby in a trashcan. He sets out on an adventure which blossoms into many treasures. Endearing, touching and poignant, this novel reveals a calling to all, stop the mass murder called abortion. All children are gifts from God.

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book excerpt

When Lincoln Harper went on a weekend binge, there was lots that he couldn’t remember. He got used to this. But there was one weekend that he never forgot. He was making his rounds of the bars and pubs in Stuttgart, Germany. He had sense enough to park his car and walk. Somehow he always ended up back at his favorite hotel sometime before dawn. The night clerk had told him in the morning more than once that he had helped him to his room and even took his shoes off on more than one occasion. On this particular night as he was moving from one of his favorite haunts to another, he passed a familiar place. He had driven by the place several times wanting to go in and give those people a ‘piece of his mind’ but he had never followed through. It was a clinic like the one in the States where Marta had died. In his stupor he looked in a few of the front windows. He even gave the front door a try. Everything was closed up tight. He glanced at his watch and thought it said two A.M. Linc noticed the alley that ran down beside the clinic and followed it to the back. Sober he would not have done this but in his present condition it didn’t have to make sense. In the back there was a solitary light protruding from the rear of the building casting a dim yellow glow over the area. The clinic was back to back with another business building and the other side of the alley was a solid continuous wall. There were a half dozen garbage cans sitting there. Four of them had lids perched on top of the contents. The other two lids were on the ground. Linc just stood there for a while leaning against the wall. He became aware that his shirt was out again and proceeded to tuck it in, who knows why. Then he stopped. He thought he heard something. A muffled cry. He opened the first can he came to and was horrified. It was full of the tiny bodies of babies, some of them dismembered and some of them perfectly whole with tiny fingers and toes. They were all covered with blood. Their own blood, each other’s blood, some mother’s blood, who knew. Linc felt his stomach wretch and most of the peanuts and pretzels that he had consumed that night came up in a hurry. He did not throw up in the can but rather on the ground. Somehow it did not seem right to him to throw up in the can. Again that noise. That muffled whimpering. It dawned on him that one of them was still alive. Linc moved from can to can. He knocked off the lid that was perched on one can. It was the same gory and horrible sight. But something moved. He saw a tiny arm on the second layer down move and then he heard the whimpering again. Gingerly he moved the two bodies on top aside. He shook the blood off his fingers. When he saw the little girl plainly, he could do nothing else but pick her up. He struggled out of his coat passing the infant from hand to hand and wrapped her in the coat. He was now stone cold sober. What to do now? He thought that a few months ago this could have been his daughter. No, this one was practically ready to be born. Never mind, it was still a tiny baby and he had to find someone to take her. He cleaned up the baby with some drinking water. He noticed an hour glass shaped birthmark just above the child’s right knee on the outside. He saw an older woman waiting for a bus on a sidewalk bench. He sat down next to the woman and the baby was crying softly. This got the old woman’s attention. Linc asked her if she wanted to hold it. She did. She took the child very lovingly and held it for several minutes. She commented that the child was hungry and too young to be away from her mother. Linc agreed. The old woman looked up as the bus approached and started to hand the child back to Linc. In a sudden decision Linc waved the bus past. The woman looked at him questioningly. Linc explained quickly where he had gotten the child and told her that the child had not eaten since she was ‘born.’ The old woman looked shocked and overcome with pity for the child. Linc asked her if she would keep it or find someone who would. Linc suggested that they exchange addresses and phone numbers. She was agreeable. Her name was Gilda. Linc called her the next week with another baby. She had a friend that wanted it. This went on through several children. Looking back Linc wondered at how naïve they both had been. It could have gone wrong in any number of ways, but it didn’t. This made Linc suspect the involvement of a higher power but he didn’t want to pursue that line of thought.