The saddest part of cemeteries are the deceased children. It's hard to see the names of children and infants carved into cold stone. I begin to imagine the horrors that once existed that may have caused these unfortunate deaths. Consumption, influenza, measles, diphtheria, smallpox, etc. Our fear of most of those things have long been laid to rest, like the victims they all took. I also imagine the grieving parents who once stood on the very spot where I now stand, their hearts forever broken. For a moment they live in my mind's eye, until I see their own resting place nearby, and then I remember those moments are long, long over. But there's a positive side to this because I once again have the opportunity to feel thankful that my own kids are alive and well, and so am I.
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