Pulsing and Burning in Our Own Way

Pulse. A noun. A rhythmical throbbing of the arteries as blood is propelled through them. Also a single vibration or short burst of sound, electric current, light, or other wave.

Everyday thousands of pulses are stopped because of abortion. But at the same time thousands of pulses are making waves everyday for those whose lives have been ended. The pro-life movement is pulsing, making waves, and making noise for those who cannot speak and those whose hearts are no longer beating.

We are the Pulse Team. This team is made up of ambassadors from the various high schools in the New Orleans area. Currently we represent Brother Martin, Cabrini, Delasalle, Chapelle, Mount Carmel, and homeschool. A few pulse teams are located throughout the state of Louisiana. We meet to learn and understand the impact of abortion in our country and what we can do about it, particularly in our native state. We have a strong focus on prayer, and our mission is to educate the young pro-life generation. Join us to learn how to speak out and join the pro-life community.

Our group emulates the White Rose Group founded by Sophie Scholl, a German college student during the Holocaust, who started a nonviolent group of teens who posted flyers throughout their community to expose the Nazis and their actions. Sophie said these words, which continue to impact and influence us today:

“The real damage is done by those millions who want to ‘survive.’ The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves—or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honour, truth, and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you. But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.”

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