On the morning of the March for Life, my alarm clock was a tiny bird outside my window, belting out the crispest notes she could hit. The bird should still have been sleeping as the temperature was below freezing outside. But instead, she was flooding the sky with her song. A singular voice cutting through the bleak darkness of the morning. She sang a song of hope, crying out to anyone who would listen.

At the March for Life on Friday, tens of thousands of these songbirds gathered to sing their hearts out. Their unifying cry? Life is beautiful. Pro-life advocates from all over the nation flocked to the middle of Washington, D.C., to show their support for the movement. Every face I saw was smiling. Old men strolled through security, bringing with them foldable chairs because their weary legs could only stand for so long. Young women with children and strollers entered the National Mall, wrangling their energetic toddlers. Thousands of college students came prepared with homemade signs with sayings such as “Every person deserves a birthday” and “Defend life like a champion today!”

As we awaited the speeches, I interviewed dozens of pro-life advocates and asked them, “Why are you pro-life?” I knew every attendee would have a different story, a different note they would bring to the event. The refrain of each of their answers was that every life is worth fighting for. Each life is beautiful. Each life has immense value.

I interviewed two petite nuns, Sister Theresa and Sister Mary Rose, bundled up in their warmest jackets and scarves. They told me God has given us life as a gift. They said they’ve given their lives for life. They said, “You give it away because it’s valuable. That’s why we’ve dedicated our lives to God because what else do we have to give?” To struggling moms, they said mothers have the gift of forming a child’s soul that will live forever. What could be more valuable than that? Often the things that are most valuable are worth the highest degree of struggle. These nuns sang notes of faith and charity.

A middle-aged man named Pat told me that when he was a baby, he was adopted by a family that already had 13 other kids. He hasn’t missed a march for nearly 25 years. Pat is hopeful that in these next years, hearts will change. Pat can see the power of adoption. Whenever I saw Pat during the rest of the day, he had a smile on his face as he joined fellow pro-lifers. Pat’s song was one of quiet, personal gratitude.

A college student named Caroline said she is pro-life because from conception everyone has a soul, and that soul belongs to God. To moms, Caroline wanted to say, “You can, you can, you can. You can do it!” She emphasized that there are so many resources out there and that so many people are praying for mothers. Caroline’s song was one of energy and vigor for the movement.

My interviews ended and the speeches began. Politicians spoke about the future of a pro-life America. Saints of the pro-life movement, both fresh and weathered alike, described the amount of love there is for moms and babies.

Two of the most notable speeches were made by everyday people with powerful testimonies. These were songs of determination. Beverly Jacobson, CEO of Mama Bear Care, described her personal experience of being pressured into aborting her child with Trisomy 18. She told the crowd about the fierce hope and love that swept over her as she made the decision to keep her child. Her daughter was able to join her in a wheelchair on stage at the march while she told this story.

Josiah Presley, an abortion survivor, gave his testimony of how his birth mother’s attempted abortion failed and he was born and adopted by a loving family. Josiah beautifully articulated the ways in which God redeemed his life from being a voiceless, nearly aborted child to a man who speaks out on behalf of the voiceless. He marches knowing he was almost never given the opportunity to live.

After the speeches concluded, every pro-lifer took to the streets to march to Capitol Hill, signifying that it is where the most pressing pro-life action needs to be taken in the upcoming years. I’ve never seen such a happy throng. Policemen lined the streets, but they weren’t needed. This was a protest of love. A trumpet player stood in the street, serenading the marchers with his instrument’s golden sound. Spirited Protestant and Catholic college students sang familiar hymns as their battle cry. Men and women lined the streets with signs saying, “I was conceived in rape, I’m grateful my mom chose life” and “I regret my abortion.”

My feeling at the end of the march was one of profound hope. It is no small thing to have tens of thousands of men and women from all different stages of life marching in a mass of unity and joy. Though the song of the pro-life movement has often been overshadowed by a culture of death, we will not stop singing. Though for years, lies have dampened and confused the ringing cry for life, we will not stop speaking out for those who have no voice. Just as a little bird can liven the whole winter sky with her song, so can each pro-lifer contribute to the ringing symphony for life and bring hope to the unborn.