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Fly Super Girl, Fly

Katie had two strokes when she was tiny and is now classified as being autistic. Which means many things to different people. I’ll offer one example. My dad lies in bed, in a large hospital in England, having also suffered a serious stroke, but he is at the other end of life. We all sit around and do the usual hospital things: make jokes that aren’t funny, pretend that everything is okay, be abnormally normal. Katie walks in. No inhibitions, none of our silly preconceptions and prejudices. She climbs on the bed, gets under the blanket, puts her arms around her grandpa and cuddles up to him. And for the very first time since he was hit by fate’s cruelty, my father shows emotion. Emotion as wide and grand as the world itself.

I increasingly believe that the handicapped are God’s gift to us, to act as a catalyst to produce and provoke love in hearts that are sometimes hard and cold. I know Katie is that, along with so many other holy and godly things. But Katie and so many others just liker her are under such threat. They are already slaughtered in the womb to a genocidal level, and now euthanasia seeks to have its gruesome way with them. All in the name of progress and putting them out of their misery.

No, not out their misery but out of yours. To make you feel easier about life, to satisfy your perverse perception of what normal and healthy and meaningful are now supposed to mean.

Fly Super Girl, fly Katie; fly you who are mocked and marginalized, those who are singled out by the abortion obsessives and the euthanasia monomaniacs for death. Fly as high as you want, and never care about those who would clip your wings.

—from the Catholic World Report article Fighting the Culture of Death, One Katie at a Time by Michael Coren


One comment on “Fly Super Girl, Fly

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