By Peggy Chapeskie

A 31 year old conversation has been playing and replaying in my head ever since I came back from Birthright’s provincial conference. Picture this:

A teenage girl is sitting at a bus stop next to a park in a large city. She is pregnant – although not yet showing – scared and alone in an unfamiliar city. She has been wracking her brain for what feels like hours, trying to decide where to go, what to do, when a middle-aged woman sits down beside her. The conversation goes something like this.

 "My, what a windy day we’re having!”

 “Yes,” says the girl.

 Silence . . . and then, “Your bus seems to be taking a long time to come.” “Yes.” The girl’s voice sounds very small.

 An even longer silence and then, “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” A sob, followed by a desperate sounding “Yes.”

 "Would you like to come home with me?" The girl gives a great sigh, and her answer this time is heartfelt. "Yes."

That conversation changed the girl’s life, perhaps even saved it. As ‘Monique’ would later find out, it was no accident that the middle-aged woman – Rita – had sat down beside her.

From the window of her Birthright office, Rita had been watching Monique for a long time. She had no idea Monique was pregnant, but she thought she was a run-away, and had decided to act.

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Rita took Monique home, and gave her love and a safe refuge. When Monique was ready to talk, Rita was able to offer advice and found her a place in a pregnancy home.

Monique eventually transferred to another pregnancy home in another city. The years went by; most of the details of her rescue became jumbled in Monique’s mind. She forgot Rita’s name, but came to think of her as her ‘bus stop angel.’

Thirty-one years passed. Monique married and had other children. Eventually she decided to tell her son about that first child she had given up for adoption. And then she decided to try to contact her bus stop angel.

Another conversation, across the distance of years.

“Hello, this is Birthright.” “Hi. This might sound crazy, but does your office overlook a park and a bus stop?”

“No, I’m sorry – it doesn’t.' A disappointed sigh. “Oh.”

“But our old office used to, before we moved.”

An entry in a long-forgotten address book eventually led Monique back to Rita, now in her seventies and retired from Birthright. Rita and Monique were reunited at the Birthright provincial conference where Monique told her story. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, and that 31 year old conversation has been playing in my head ever since.

May 2008