There is a beautiful, old, wooded cemetery near our church where Marathon and I will sometimes stroll during the Sunday School hour. It’s a large place, and though we’ve been a few times, we still haven’t explored all of its nooks and crannies.
The last time we were there, we went to the far end of the cemetery. As we rounded a corner and headed toward the back, Marathon said, “This section must be for the poor” because it was absent of any large markers or headstones. The only markers were small and flat to the ground.
After getting closer and seeing how small the graves were, we realized this section was full of infants, mostly under the age of 2. There were graves with little matchbox cars and other toys on them. Continue reading
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