“You here for the speaker?” he asked as he offered his hand and she shook it. She nodded, then glanced down at his hand. “Whaaat? I have one just like that!” She held up her wrist for him to see. “Nice. Where did you get yours?” “College. They were handing them out to whoever wanted one. You?” “Mine was passed down from my dad and he got it from my grandpa.” She nodded. “Wow.” “Yea,” his voice quavered. “It holds a lot of meaning for me.” “Oh for sure,” she replied. “Shhh. It’s starting.” They both sank down in nearby chairs and listened to the speaker. He wasn’t from around there, but there had been flyers and posters and curiosity simmered quietly in the crowd. An hour passed quickly by, as one by one their charms had fallen from their bracelets. “Do you buy what he said about stomping on the rights of the people we claim to care about?” “I think he was just hung up on the phrase ‘right to choose’. “Right. But the ‘stage or age’ thing he said about abortion being murder?” “The thing that got me was that phrase he kept using.” “Your silence is your signature on the death certificate,” the two new friends chimed together. He looked down as his PP charm fell to the floor. “And the thing about loving someone enough to tell them the truth about God’s laws.” He shuddered, “Creepy, right? As though people don’t have enough to deal with without someone telling them their sex partner’s all wrong.” “I agree! But what if he’s right?” “You mean that our silence is . . .” “Our signature on their ticket to hell? Our signature on their death certificate?” “Yeaa,” he answered slowly. “But who am I to tell anyone . . .” “What’s right and wrong? I don’t like it either.” “It’s their choice, right?” “But hell . . .” He pressed his lips together. “I know.” She looked at the LGBTQ charm on the floor. “I thought there was going to be a riot when he started in on immigration.” “Illegal. He kept pressing that point,” she added. He lowered his voice. “What do you think about the trafficking?” “I know! And the little kids he talked about.” “And the millions of dollars in drugs brought and sold. My best friend’s brother died of an overdose last year.” She brushed his arm with her hand. The two looked down at the floor as some more charms fell. “I just can’t get that phrase out of my head!” He put his hands over his ears. “Your silence is your signature . . .” “Stop!” He calmed himself and gave her an apologetic smile. “Do you think killing trafficked kids for organs actually happens?” She shook her head quickly and shut her eyes. “Whatever happened to just loving everybody? Can’t we just love everyone? Let whoever wants come and go?” “Legally, remember?” he laughed. “It should be more simple than he’s making it,” she said, biting her lip. “But the worst part was his next point. How silence allows unthinkable things you shut your eyes to. Child sacrifice has made it’s way from the abortion room to secret rooms and rituals.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered. She sighed imperceptibly. She wondered if her hoping something wasn’t true would make it so. The two new friends made their way over to a table stocked with information and charms.. She looked at her new friend. “It couldn’t hurt. I don’t have anything left, do you?” He shook his head as he rubbed his empty bracelet between his fingers, and they sorted through the charms, marveling they were free.         Images: Pexels.com; Scripture sources: Romans 1:22-26; Leviticus 18:22, 20:13; I Cor. 6:9-11; Jude 1:7; I Cor. 6:9-10; Romans 1:18-22; I Timothy 1:9-10; Acts 17:26;John 3:16