There is a spot I pass
in my travels
'most every day.
If someone is not thinking about it,
it is easy to miss.
A little container of flowers,
placed there by parents
with a hole in their hearts.
You see, their little boy died on that spot.
It was an accident.
Sometimes, it really is JUST a terrible, awful, accident.
A child runs out from between cars.
A driver cannot stop in time.
And a precious, bright light goes out
And after the other people go home,
and the media attention dies down,
and the official paperwork is finalized,
there is STILL a Mother, left without her child,
and a Father without his buddy...
Who, in their loneliness, tend a roadside memorial.
Because there is nothing else they can do.
I don't know you personally, Mom and Dad.
And I didn't know your son.
But I noticed you changed out his flowers again.
You must have loved him so dearly.
My heart breaks for you.
I am sure many people pray for you when they pass your son's memorial.
I am one of them.
May God's peace be with you.
You are not alone.