The Funeral

 

 

The cemetery was such a bleak place, without a blade of grass to be seen. There were few leaves left on the trees, showing the effects of their struggle to survive during the long years of drought. The cool May winds were blowing clouds of gritty dust over Susannah as she stood, head bowed, holding her small toddler’s hand. Her husband stood beside her, nursing their surviving twin, Charlie in his arms.

 

It all felt like such a blur to the grieving mother, standing beside the small grave ready to receive the tiny coffin of her beloved daughter, Gracie. She recalled the shock and dismay she had felt when told late in her pregnancy that she was carrying twins. Although it had been a constant struggle to provide food and clothing for the children, Gracie’s cheerful little personality had brought so much joy since she and Charlie had arrived in February the year before.

 

The little girl had fallen ill more than a month ago. She became lethargic and was unable to keep food down. Her thin little body became rapidly wasted despite every effort to provide her with tempting broth and porridge. Susannah knew there was no cure for Tubercular Enteritis however she prayed that her daughter would be spared.

 

The sound of the clods of dry earth falling on the coffin brought Susannah back to the moment.   Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…

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