The Grave No One Tended

 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 knew I must hurry along.
 But I couldn't help but linger while
 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 me 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.

 by Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey
 Reprinted by permission of Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey(c) 1997,
 from A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield,
 Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch McCarty and Meladee McCarty.