"It's Okay, Baby."

Today, I took Ella to the cemetery near our house. We walked through the green grass, looking at all of the grave markers. I have always been intrigued by graveyards. I love to read the names and the years of their births and deaths, and try to imagine what their lives must have been like when they were alive.

I am especially curious when I read dates that reflect their births as being before the end of American slavery and their deaths being after slavery. How strange of a life they must have lived with all of the changes in such a time as the existance and abolition of humans owning humans. Disgusting sin!

As Ella and I walked through the graveyard, I would point out the grave markers of infants and tell her, “Here is where a little baby was buried. The baby died.” She really couldn’t understand exactly what I was saying, because she is not even three-years-old. But she did a very strange thing.

Every time I showed her a grave marker of an infant, she would sit on the grave marker, pull up a hand full of grass, pull the grass cupped in her hands toward her chest and cuddle it, while saying, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

I swear, it took every bit of control I had to keep from crying.

I think females are the most amazing creatures that God has placed on the earth, no matter what their age.

Forever experiencing God through my children,
Johnny