Then the Cemetery...

So, first we visited the beach. The next day we walked around my Mom's neighborhood. First we made our way to the local cemetery. Yes, I have a fascination with cemeteries. And this one was no exception. Nestled in a pine grove, the floor covered with a cushion of fallen needles, this cemetery meandered among the trees along a ridge on the edge of a local lake.

Age is all relative... growing up in California, we rarely found anything more than 100 years old. Traveling around Europe and the Middle East, I encountered stones and ruins thousands of years old. For the United States, this cemetery was quite old. The oldest tombstone I found was dated from 1732. Portions of my Mom's house are said to be from even earlier than that.



The Goodwin family had graves throughout the cemetery, including, most likely, those who owned the house before my parents. It is a bit difficult for me to understand. I didn't grow up in house that had "historic value." At least none that I knew of. My current home is only about 80 years old, but has some interesting stories behind it. Most likely the community I live in served as housing for those who worked at the tuberculosis sanitorium located across Pulaski.


Whenever I look at history, I am aware that there are stories that are not told, people who are forgotten or left behind. History is so often the story of those who are in power or those who won the day. Rarely is history told from the perspective of the average and the ordinary... or from those on the margins. So, I am always grateful for those signs, such as this tombstone, that hint at the rest of the story.


When I read the scriptures, I search for such signs. Stories of those who were lost or forgotten. I am aware that in many ways the Bible is just the tip of the iceberg, hints of a much deeper, wider, and more complex story. The world that Christ walked in was not just that of the stories written. So many stories were lost or forgotten. I am grateful that the Bible is full of at least some of the stories from the margins, that the parables were often so much about ordinary people and ordinary objects that were endowed with deep spiritual significance in the words of the Savior. May we see the world with similar eyes to that of our God.