It was a mild spring day in April when I left my Modesto home with a large supply of literature packets. I traveled to City College in Sacramento where I leafleted about 500 parked cars across the street from the college in a city park. I began to walk along the streets, occasionally handing a packet to a student going to his car. I was startled by a girl approaching, literature in hand. She was irate as she handed the packet back to me: "It's terrible the way you people are exploiting these babies!" she screamed.
     "Exploiting?" I questioned. "Over four thousand babies are being killed every day in this country."
     "Well," she said, "how can you say what you are doing is better? You're killing the abortionists."
     "One abortionist?" I exclaimed. "We are talking about millions of babies."

     This young woman was so angry that I felt she was close to striking me. It was obvious she had had an abortion and couldn't stand seeing the results of what she had done in the form of a picture. "Look," I said to her, "if you're going to ever be right again, you must ask God's forgiveness." She started to walk away, and her pace quickened at my words. I said it again as she got further away from me, mumbling something under her breath.

     A few minutes later I handed the literature to two young women getting out of their car. One was oriental and the other Caucasian. They took the literature - one of them tossed it onto the front seat of the car - and they began giving each other smirks, making it crystal clear that they didn't agree with the pro-life message.

     "Do you know" I said to them, "that we are destroying our economic future because of all of the abortions in this country? When you women are older, there will be no one there to help you, no one to support you. There will be no Social Security for you because there will be no young people to earn money."

     When I tried to hand a male student the literature, he said he didn't need it because he was pro-life. "I'm also pro-choice," he said as he began to walk away.
     "How can that be?" I questioned. "You're sitting on the fence. You've got to take a stand on this."
     "It's a woman's right to choose," he said.
     "You mean it's a woman's right to kill?" I asked.

     I made two trips to Ceres High two weeks apart. The first time the students were being let out in dribbles. It was called "testing day." I stood there for about fifteen minutes and then decided to return the following week.
     It was a normal day when I came back as kids came out in large numbers. I was standing on a corner next to a crossing. Soon a woman security guard dressed in black appeared and demanded that I cross the street, saying this was "school property." I refused stating that this was a public sidewalk and that I had the right to distribute information there. I continued to pass out materials as she apparently called the school office on her walkie-talkie and soon realized that I was right. She didn't bother me after that but continued to stand a few feet away watching me as I passed out materials.
     One of the kids I handed the literature to was a girl I had met the previous week. I told her I remembered her from last week "because of the collar you are wearing." She smiled and seemed to enjoy the fact that I took special notice of her "dog collar" worn snugly around her neck. From what I could see it was a real dog collar. Later I encountered her again when I got into a discussion at the cafe across the street from the school. I learned that this heavily made up brunette girl with a pretty face was a lesbian. I discovered this when the discussion I was having with about eight rebellious types on abortion quickly changed to a religious one.
     "You mean you believe you evolved out of the slime of the earth?" I asked with a shocked expression on my face. I pointed to my watch and said, "Do you see this watch? If I told you it just evolved out of nothing without someone making it, you would laugh at me. I could say the same thing about the Empire State Building. When you look at your body with its complicated make-up, the fact that we can think and also pray, doesn't that tell you something?" I could see I had made a little dent in her thinking as she couldn't come up with an answer.
     Soon someone asked the question, "What about homosexuality? Is it wrong?" Then I discovered this girl was a lesbian as she began to ask questions. She revealed that she was living in the same house with her "girlfriend."
     All through the course of our conversation I was being verbally attacked by a smart aleck blond girl who kept asking me to leave saying she didn't like what I was saying.
     I confessed Jesus to these kids, telling them that once they found Him, they would find the true meaning to life. I said that He is the sin bearer and that He would take the punishment for their sins. I mentioned true repentance. If they wanted Jesus, they would have to stop having sex before marriage.
     One young man told me he had been raised a Christian, had "really found Christ" and then left the church.
     "You didn't really find Christ," I answered him. "If you had, you would never have left Him."
     "Oh, that's not true," he said. "I did find Christ and a lot of my friends too."
     "One of these days," I said to him, "when you're really in trouble, you will really find Him."
     All the while I was talking a few of the kids were trying to do and say things that would shock me. I told them I had seen everything and they weren't bothering me.
     I stood there at least a half hour or more on that Wednesday afternoon. Our whole conversation was interlaced with the name Jesus as I kept interjecting it continually. I told them the answer to everything - to all their problems - was a relationship with Jesus Christ.
     Most of my remarks were directed to the lesbian girl who kept asking questions. I looked her square in the eyes as I left and mentioned that I would pray for her. "Other people have tried," she confessed.
     "That's all right," I said. "I'll still pray for you. Prayer is powerful, you know."
     "God bless all of you," I told them as I left. I noticed the expression on a young man who had had a great deal of negative things to say suddenly soften as I turned to look at him. He said "thank you" under his breath.
     Later I thought of the strange symbolism of the lesbian girl and her "dog collar" - in bondage to the sin of lesbianism.

     I left my home at 9:00 AM for Modesto College East. It was an almost springlike day in February. I managed to pass out 225 packets of information in an hour's time. Most of it was put under the windshield wipers of cars and the rest hand delivered to students as they walked to and from their cars.
     The general attitude of these college kids that morning was good - whether they were pro-life or pro-death they didn't say. There was one exception:
     As I was walking up a residential street where the students cars were parked, I got into a verbal battle with a pretty brunette girl who approached me with her lower lip quivering in anger. "What right do you have to put literature on my car?" she demanded.
     "Do you realize it is legal?" I asked. Then she pointed to the picture of a suction abortion: "This is terrible what you're doing," she said bursting with hostility. I looked at her and said scratching my head: "Do you realize what you're saying? You're telling me that a picture of an abortion is more important than the fact of abortion. If you feel so bad about the picture, why not do something to stop abortion?" I asked. "It's like looking at a picture of someone molesting a child and getting all upset over the picture and not caring whether the child molester is punished."
     Then she pointed to the leaflet, Abortion Is Wrong Because God Says It Is: "That's not in the Bible," she stated.
     "You're wrong about that," I answered. "God says choose life, not death. Look," I said to her as kindly as I could under the circumstances, "if you've had an abortion, you must ask God's forgiveness if you are ever going to get over it."
     "I haven't had an abortion," she stated emphatically. I almost believed her until she told me when I asked her to tell her friends about it that "none of my friends have had abortions either."
     All the while I talked with this girl, her boyfriend sitting in his truck with the window rolled down was listening to our conversation. He had started to leave his parking place and was waiting with the motor still running. The expression on his face was noncommittal. As the girl entered the truck, my last words to her were: "Choose Life, Not Death." She mumbled some words under her breath as they drove off. I wondered afterwards whether that conversation changed their relationship in any way. If he didn't believe in abortion, it could have had quite an impact.