W e cannot live without mothers.

This should be an obvious point. But we have recent examples in our culture and politics that suggest denial. There was a photo not that long ago of two men — one of whom serves in the Biden administration — in a hospital bed with their newborns. There had to have been a woman involved at some point in the process. But she had been erased from the announcement of the births that the photo accompanied. More recently, the vice president of the United States visited an abortion clinic. As important as abortion has been to the Democratic Party, no president or vice president had previously made such a trip. At his own abortion-rights rally, our Catholic president made the sign of the cross, as if to call upon God’s blessings for more abortions.

America’s women deserve better.

And this isn’t a partisan matter. We are facing another presidential election that most people aren’t happy about. As someone who considers abortion the human-rights issue of our time, having Donald Trump associated with the end of Roe v. Wade isn’t what I hoped and prayed for. I do believe God works with everything, but we also must be prudent and perseverant.

And tender.

There’s a chapel in New York City next to an abortion clinic. Often, pro-life ministries try to set up shop next to abortion clinics in the hopes of truly offering mothers a choice. They’ll offer ultrasounds. In some cases, groups such as Save the Storks might even have a bus that offers such, right outside a clinic. Women — and girls — often feel coerced into abortion, and these are opportunities for them to take a breath and consider options other than ending the life of their developing child.

One day I spent some time outside this abortion clinic praying and sidewalk counseling. I’m not the best at either of those things, but sometimes there is no one to offer a smile and a sign of hope a young woman or girl is desperate for. For hours, there were young women who looked despondent. It was cold, and some of their boyfriends didn’t even get out of their cars — at either end of the appointment. (I would see the same in the summertime; cars offer air-conditioning.) What are we teaching our young men about love and responsibility? This is not a religious or political question. It’s one we might be able to talk about in a non–presidential election year.

Next door in the chapel, there were some twentysomething missionaries with the Fellowship of Catholic University Students. These young people were helping with campus ministry at secular campuses in the city — Columbia and New York University. (This has become a more intense mission in recent months and weeks.) I unloaded a little to them, knowing they were already in a prayerful mode, about what pain was on display on the other side of the block. I begged them to pray for everyone suffering. This is not politics. This is pain. The most intimate issues shouldn’t be left to politics, and those of us who pray must take that mandate seriously.

One of these kids prayed a prayer I had never considered myself, even as a cradle Catholic. He prayed that Mary appear on the other side of the street. It’s not the craziest thing — there have been reports of the mother of Jesus appearing in Fátima in Portugal to shepherd children, and in Lourdes, France — a place of tremendous healing — and in Guadalupe, Mexico, a catalyst for conversion to Christianity. The prayer was earnest and loving and all about the women who find themselves there, convinced by the people in their lives and the culture that ending their pregnancy is what is expected. As I spent more time there, I realized that the young men seemed to think the same: This is what you do. Some of them were callous, but more of them probably thought this is just part of life.

And yet it’s death.

What those FOCUS missionaries were praying for was a restoration of motherhood. And whether you are a Christian believer or not, there is something about Mary and the Holy Family that could unite us. A virgin and mother. The mother of Christ. A Jew. If you go to Ephesus in Turkey, you will see Muslim guards watching over the pilgrimage site where, it is believed, she lived with the Apostle John after Jesus’s crucifixion (and resurrection). It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. There’s a reverence in common. And after the end of Roe v. Wade, I hear women begging for us to come together.

In more recent days, I’ve talked to people starting clinics in their churches and thrift stores for moms. People there understand mothers’ needs and want to help. (More of us need to.) And women want to be helped. Politics suggests easy answers, but the truth is that women and families need the long haul of love. That’s obviously not a policy platform. It’s a conviction that mothers can save the world — and men know that.

It was encouraging to see twentysomethings (even in the City of New York!) who understood this. There are more people, all around the country, who consider themselves pro-life and pro-choice, who do, too. And can’t we all agree we all need more encouragement these days?

This column is based on one available through Andrews McMeel Universal’s Newspaper Enterprise Association.