You came to me with your mother to ask for contraception. I look at you—your face so young, so beautiful, open, peaceful, full of tenderness and trust. Yes, I have everything you need: pills, injections, IUDs. I could even sterilize you. It's easy for me, I'm a doctor.
But my heart tightens. How do I explain? How do I find the right words? How do I tell you about a woman's deepest need—that hunger for tenderness, for stability, for faithfulness? How do I describe the pain of a woman who gives herself, only to be abandoned? How do I tell you that above all else, you want to be loved, to be understood—and that this doesn't necessarily come through sexual relations?
How do I help you carry this impossible message: "I love you, but I don't want children with you"? How do I tell you that I can make pregnancy impossible, but not AIDS?
I look at you. You are so beautiful. I hear your cry: you want to be like everyone else. You want to find meaning in your life, to love and be loved. It breaks my heart to think that you've found no place where your gifts can flourish. How do I tell you that you carry a message entirely your own—the witness you bear to friendship and faithfulness?
I look at your mother, and my heart fills with tenderness and compassion. I think to myself: She is happy with your father, and she wants the same for you. But what she built with your father, she built in two. They shared a life together. They had children together.
I feel her arms fall at her sides, overwhelmed by the world and all its pressures on you both. And I find myself in tears—tears for our world, which has corrupted the very meaning of love. Tears for a society that has become incapable of welcoming you as you are, with your particular gift to offer. Yes, I want to weep, because I have at my disposal an arsenal of death. I want to take you both in my arms and protect you.
But at the same time, I know my task is to try to show you a different path. And if you will let me, I will walk it with you.
- Mary Peeters (physician), 1995
O. et L. n. 107