The day was lovely as I strolled along peering at stones on the way, and that’s when I saw it, that pitiful cross that looked splintered and faded away.
With flowers in hand to tend Father’s grave, I know I must hurry along. But I couldn’t help but linger awhile at that cross that just didn’t belong
The date on the front confirmed my suspicions of what already I knew. A child lay beneath that horrible cross and its faded color of blue.
What selfish parents they must have been to bury their child all alone, Without flowers or candles to light the night and not even a simple headstone.
I looked even closer at that awful cross that was nearly splintered away, And there on the back, I read the words that changed me forever that day.
"This cross isn’t grand, but it was carved by my hands so you’ll know, son, how much I care. It’s the color of blue to remind my of you and how painful it is I’m not there,
That it’s you who is gone and it’s me living on while your young life has come to an end. And I’m left alone, never again with a home and a grave that’s too painful to tend."
Tears stung my eyes as I looked all around at the monuments that ragged cross put to shame. And I shared with those parents their horrible loss that brought them such terrible pain.
And all the tombstones, some even taller than me suddenly seemed small in a way, Next to that little handmade cross, carved with such love and the flowers I planted that day.
~ Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey ~