What’s it like being a Sidewalk Advocate for Life?

by Colleen Ostermann

In his mercy, the Lord pours out his graces to his children on the sidewalks outside abortion facilities. It can be daunting to try to reach a woman facing a crisis pregnancy when her mind is set on abortion, but in his kindness, God supplies the grace necessary for the task at hand. 

When sidewalk advocates go to abortion facilities, we always pray, but we don’t always see the fruits of our prayers. Sometimes the Lord allows periods of desolation, but they make moments of more tangible grace even sweeter.

For weeks, those of us out on the sidewalk had struggled to make connections or see the fruits of our labor. Then, on June 13, the Feast of St. Anthony in the Octave of Pentecost, several miracles happened on the sidewalk. I have many stories from that day, but will focus on the one that seems to best demonstrate the power of the Holy Spirit – for it is to him that the glory belongs.

Our friend Melissa Yeomans was visiting from the National Sidewalk Advocate team, and I arrived at the facility to discover a chaotic scene: A protester was displaying graphic pictures of aborted children. Planned Parenthood escorts were playing loud rap music and twirling colorful umbrellas to block sidewalk advocates from speaking to the women. 

Exiting my car, I said a prayer to St. Anthony and walked over to Yeomans in her blue Sidewalk Advocate vest. She was crouched under the twirling umbrella, speaking gently and kindly to a man sitting on a bench and weeping about 20 feet away outside the entrance. An advocate mentioned attempts to speak with him and his girlfriend as she entered, but indicated that they only spoke Spanish.

I do not remember what Yeomans said, but I will never forget how she looked – crouching amid the chaos as she continued speaking out to him in English in the gentlest and kindest voice. After a few minutes of peaceful persistence, he looked up, left the bench, and approached. Soon, we had a translator on the phone and he was explaining that they had three small children and a difficult financial situation that spurred them to visit the facility.

Although he wanted his baby, the mother was very distressed. Melissa and the translator told them that they could help, explaining that we could supply the needed assistance.

It was a simple conversation, but in the end, he walked away for a moment in an attempt to call his girlfriend and convince her to come out. When we didn’t see him for a while, the advocates decided to break for lunch and I hopped in my car, disappointed that I had not spoken with anyone. 

As I drove down the street, I saw the man hunched over on a park bench under some trees. I knew I wasn’t going to lunch anymore. I pulled over and walked up to him. My Spanish is worse than terrible, but I asked the Holy Spirit for help.

“Do you know Jesus?” I asked in Spanish as I held out my rosary. 

“Yes,” he said. 

In broken Spanish, I asked if he would pray with me, and when he said yes, I pulled up the rosary in Spanish on my phone. The first decade was for his girlfriend. We prayed slowly, his voice breaking at times. The second decade was for the baby, I said, and he assented. The third decade was for his other children. I explained to him in Spanish that the siblings of children who lose their lives to abortion carry the wounds of the loss of their brother or sister for their whole lives. The last decade, I said, was for his family – that it would be full of the life of Jesus Christ.

After we finished, we talked for a while and I asked if he knew Our Lady of Guadalupe. He said he was from Cuba, where devotion is common to Our Lady of Charity. I told him that they were the same beautiful lady and that she had come to the Aztecs to save the babies that were being sacrificed. I told him that this was no different from that violence and that Our Lady’s intercession was his child’s best defense.

I asked him if she was there for a surgical or pill abortion. He said that she was there for a pill abortion. I explained that he was the best person to help her. Many women lack support from the men in their lives to keep their babies, but when fathers stand up to help them, they feel consoled and more confident about choosing life. He said he understood. I explained that there was something called abortion pill reversal that could save his baby. He pulled the website up on his phone.

We talked more about fatherhood. I explained that women often grieved the loss of a child many years after an abortion. Then I asked if I could take him to pray at a church. He asked how far away it was. 

“Five minutes,” I said. 

He asked how long it would take. I asked how long he had. 

When he said he had an hour, I confirmed that I could have him back here in one hour.

We got in our cars to go, but then he turned around because his girlfriend had left the clinic. When I drove up beside him, the escorts started screaming at us to move, and we did. I didn’t see him again, but I felt so much consolation knowing that we had been able to speak.

Although hours on the sidewalk are not always as interactive as the story above, each Friday has currently been filled with local advocates at Planned Parenthood. We hope to expand full coverage days and locations soon, but cannot do so without more volunteers. If you are interested in becoming a trained advocate, contact Taylor Wegerer at 316-677-0327. 

The six-hour training is the biggest commitment. After that, she will work with you to see if you can volunteer monthly, weekly, etc. for one hour at a time. In addition, if your parish would like to host a training session, please call the preceding number to coordinate a date and time.

Colleen Ostermann is a weekly sidewalk advocate.