One humid day, in the Spring of 1946, a thunderstorm grew on the horizon. It was so sticky outside the clothes would cling to your body. It rained like it had never rained before that night. The rain pounded so hard on the tin roof, that you had to speak into each others ears just to get a word in edge wise. Not even the rain could drown out the screams of pain echoing throughout the little house. When it thundered it felt as if the little house would shake off its foundation.
Then as the rain softened up, you entered this oh world. Your Grandmother wrapped you in a soft quilt that she had stitched herself. Your precious little body was just not strong enough. So the Angels came down, wrapped their wings around your tiny soul, and took you home with them. The soft rain began to cry down, as your little box was carried out of the house in the secrecy of the night. The strong shouldered man carried it down through the woods and over the hills, till he reached what was then the edge of the cemetery. He placed your little box in a shallow unmarked grave at the end of a row.
Year after year, your Aunt would place a stone to mark the place where you were laid to rest. You are a part of my family history. I hope you have finally been placed in the arms of your mother after all these years. The past has a way of coming out. Look how far you have made it. R.I.P.
Cleates Marie Dewitt Kruse (1930 - 2004)
The baby was placed to rest at the end of the Sexton family row, in a shallow unmarked grave.
Maintained by: Chrystal L. Hutson Bower
Originally Created by: G L O R Y B E ~ Gotta Lo...
Record added: Mar 26, 2007
Find A Grave Memorial# 18633715