Today we wandered around the cemetery, reading the sketchy inscriptions that sum up a person's life. When they were born, when they died, who they married, the names of their children--and occasionally a bit more.
My heart ached for the many parents who buried children who died too young and the children who were left motherless.
I stood before the grave of a woman who bore nine children before she buried her husband somewhere in Ohio on the Pioneer Trail. She married again, and had four more children with that husband--and again, death left her a widow. She married a third time--a brother perhaps, since the last two husbands shared the same last name--and gave birth to one more child.
Fourteen children.
All, without a dishwasher or microwave, without a washer or dryer, without a phone or refrigerator, without a car or indoor plumbing.
Today I feel humbled, and a little more grateful.
5 comments:
i loved living by the provo cemetary. it was so peaceful to go on walks there, but i had to avoid the baby graves because they made me cry every time. i always wondered what people's story were.
wow! perspective indeed. between this and danielle's haiti photos, i'm feeling very humbled and grateful!
amazing. I was telling Chase the other day how different it was for my grandparents to grow up vs. him. Kids are too spoiled nowadays. I agree with Briana- after seeing Dani's pictures I thought the same thing.
Well said!
When Rob and I hiked the Y, we were talking about how incredible it is that the pioneers hiked over those steep mountains, with no trails paved for them. We owe them so much.
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