It’s October 1, and we all know what that means: autumn is in the air. Leaves are turning color on the trees. Little Brother’s soccer team is practicing in the dark because the sun sets before 7 PM. TheDad is thinking about closing the pool. There are already Halloween decorations adorning several houses and yards on my block.
Even in the dairy department, where each and every Egg-Land’s Best egg is stamped with a little pink ribbon.
I am well aware that breast cancer exists. My mother-in-law had it. Like any cancer, it is a horrible disease. It affects too many people. It kills too many people.
I get that.
What I don’t get is how breast cancer, unlike any other cancer (such as sarcoma, which TheDad was diagnosed with two years ago; or melanoma, which killed a friend of mine ten years ago; or other skin cancers, kidney cancer or prostate cancer, all of which my father has had) has become a movement in itself.
Every disease should have breast cancer’s pink-ribbon marketing team.
But the pink ribbons make me mad, because they remind me that some of the organizations behind those ribbons take some of the money that people think they are giving to cancer research and donate it to the nation’s largest abortion provider.
I don’t go out of my way not to purchase things with pink ribbons on them, but I won’t go out of my way to buy them either.
I bought the pink-ribbon eggs because Little Brother eats two eggs every morning and they were on sale and I had a coupon. The pink-ribbon eggs were 10 cents per egg, as opposed to 15 cents per un-decorated eggs. So I bought them and we will use them.
But when I see the pink ribbon all over everything this month, I will try to remember to pray not only for the victims of breast cancer, but the victims of abortions that are being funded by organizations that raise money in the name of breast cancer.