May the solemnity of Good Friday remind us of the immense love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
As we enter into the final days of the Lenten season I wanted to share something that I saw recently. It was on a television program called “1923”. The show has its good and bad I suppose like any but there was one episode, the last one in fact of the season, that really struck me. I’m hoping none of this spoils the ending for anyone – it aired last weekend! If you have not seen it and plan to – do not read on!!
Anyway, The main focus for the episode was the culmination of two journeys. To the same place in fact. One character, Alex, was traveling from England to Montana. As you can imagine, in 1923, this was not as easy or swift as it is now. This young woman was traveling to Montana to meet up with her husband, Spencer, on his ranch. She was also carrying his child.
The journey was harrowing to say the least. From a long journey by boat to Ellis Island in New York with its perils for a young woman traveling alone to then a long train ride from New York to Montana with various obstacles in the way. At one point the train could go no further due to winter snows stranding her near Winnetka Illinois pregnant, penniless, and alone. By a stroke of kindness a young English couple who she meets on the train offer to drive her to her destination. Wow. Ok. But alas, due to the brutal winter snows and the fact that in 1923 there were a lot more miles of empty fields and forest than there were 7-11’s and Chevrons, the car ran low on gas and eventually was stopped by the huge snowdrifts. Sadly the couple both perished from the cold. And Alex, alone in the car in the middle of nowhere awaits her fate while building small fires with whatever she can find.
Lo and behold the very train her husband Spencer is on flies by where the car is stopped and Spencer happens to see her by the tracks next to a car in flames.
Ok, now I know a fast moving train and him happening to see her outside as it flies by is a leap but wait for it.
Like the romantic hero he is, he leaps from the train to get to his wife Alex. The reunion is bittersweet and definitely swoonworthy.
They make it back to the train where a fellow passenger who happens to be a physician declares Alex in dire need of amputation due to severe hypothermia. Unfortunately, Alex’s body was weakened from the hours of frostbite she had endured, requiring amputations and surgery that would have rendered her unable to care for her as yet unborn child in the crucial hours that would determine his fate.
Where am I going with this? Stay with me.
Alex’s legs and one hand had gone completely necrotic. The limbs needed to be amputated to save her life. The doctors argued that the preemie baby was too underdeveloped to survive outside the womb. They advised to abort and get Alex to surgery. As they begin to warm her up, Alex asks about her baby’s health. “The female form is a miracle. They can withstand physical hardship well beyond that of men, especially when with child. If there is a way to protect the child your body will find it.” says the good doctor.
Alex makes it to the hospital in Bozeman where it is quickly determined that she is in active labor. The little boy is born of his mother’s womb 3 months early, so roughly 30 weeks. And the emergency doctor says “It’s best not to become attached. Its lungs are not developed enough to survive the hour…” his voice trails off as the cries of her son are heard. Alex says, “So be it, give me the hour.”
Alex refuses the instruction to be prepped for surgery while offering her breast to her son. Stating, “A mother that would choose herself over her child is no mother at all.”
She and Spencer are reunited again very briefly before she succumbs to her injuries and passes away in his arms. Their child survives.Now I know this can be framed as “Hollywood” dramatics and I admit I’m a sucker for a doomed love story but it was a powerful statement of love and sacrifice just the same. Much like Christ in His final hours on the cross – for us.
Throughout history there have been many stories of mothers sacrificing themselves for their children. A beautiful, more recent, example is Saint Gianna Beretta Molla. This pediatrician and mother died on Easter morning 1962 after declining cancer treatment that could have harmed her unborn daughter. “With great faith and courage, Gianna Molla made the choice that enabled her daughter to be born. We can often wish that we were in different circumstances, but holiness frequently comes from making difficult choices in bad situations.” (https://www.franciscanmedia.org/saint-gianna-beretta-molla/)
As we reflect on the Paschal Triduum I know I’ll be thinking of the women who come to Next Step, pregnant, and anxious for their future, and the many sacrifices that will most certainly come with choosing life.
Have a blessed Easter.
~Heather Vasquez
