Into the Snowy Dark

On a cold December night, there was a man who drove his car into a little cemetery in the middle of town. Anyone who would have seen him, would have wondered what he was doing there. Perhaps he was there to desecrate a grave, perhaps he was there to do other dark things. Or maybe, just maybe, he was there to do something extraordinary.

He would drive slowly a few feet and stop. A few minutes later he would start driving a few more feet before stopping again. After a couple of turns he gave up and parked the car. Stepping out the car, he looked up at the falling snow that glittered in the light of a street lamp. He rubbed his hands together and began walking past grave after grave looking for just the right grave. In the far corner of the cemetery, he spied a tall willow tree. At the foot was an old tiny gravestone that was wrapped in the willow’s warm embrace. He went through the leaves and crouched down to take a long look at the stone. He read the name and saw the dates underneath: December 24 1864- December 24 1865. This lonely grave belonged to a little boy that only felt life for a year. He felt tears well in his eyes as devastation stabbed at his heart. He looked around the tree and some of the neighboring plots only to see that this little angel was not buried with any of his relations.

Yes….yes… this was the right one.  He dashed to his car and threw open the back door. He pulled out a Christmas wreath that was adorned with red and white poinsettias. He reached even further and pulled out an old teddy bear that he had played with and adored as a little boy. He slowly approached the grave and quietly sank to his knees in the snow in front of the stone. He carefully draped the wreath of the gravestone and against the boy’s name, his teddy bear was placed. He murmured soft comforting words to a little one who has long since gone to sleep. He prayed that somehow, this lonely soul would hear his words. After he had finished, he gently kissed the little headstone and stood, taking a long look at the little boy’s name, committing it to his memory. He turned away and silently walked to his car, leaving the child alone with his gifts. As he pulled from the side of the road and began to drive away, he looked in his rearview mirror and through the snow, he saw light illuminate the lonely willow tree. He could see the tiny grave bathed in light, the wreath shining. He wondered at the sight in awe before he finally smiled. He drove away with an eye on the mirror until the falling snow veiled the cemetery and he drove through into the snow and fog with a light within his heart.