Amid all the darkness in the world, there is a small quiet cemetery that is the home to many a hero for our country who fought for the truth in many circumstances. My mom and I planned to go to a service for a civil war soldier that was buried and never received the respects that was due to him for fighting for our country.
It was a Sunday afternoon, sunny, and warm. The trees that surrounded us where tall and old; their boughs were laden thick with leaves; the grass was long and lush. We stood among a group of people of about twenty or more; most of the people seemed to know each other. It was a very family like environment. Around us were numerous graves beneath the shade of the trees. Across from us were five old men who wore their veteran hats. They stood talking to one another, smiling and laughing. They were the sweetest old men! To the left of us were five boy scouts, one holding a rose, and another passing out booklets. The boy scouts were also chatting.
Three of the ladies around us were wearing beautiful civil war style dresses, with big hoop skirts that had simple patterns of black and white or floral design. They also wore lovely straw hats with flowers and feathers. The ladies also held their hand bags.
Yet amid so many people my attention was first drawn to the gravestone that read: “Henry Northrop……” directly ahead of us. The gravestone was rather thin and decently tall; its colour was a greenish grey. Its top was rounded, and the date was deeply carved in the stone. This was the grave of the soldier that fought in the Civil War and who we were going to give honor to that day.
We stood for awhile and read the booklet which contained the history of Henry Northrop as well as the ceremony formula and part of the Gettysburg Address. I then noticed that a man with a video camera on his shoulder and a microphone in his pocket which read the name of a news channel. He was rather tall and bore a serious look on his face. He seemed very intent on his job. He was standing near us and was getting ready to tape. After a little waiting, the memorial ceremony began.
The ceremony started with a welcome and then a speech about the soldier we were about to honor. They told of his life and how he entered the army under the age limit and how he fought bravely and received a wound after which he learned that his company in a battle had nearly been wiped out. After the war he returned to his home and married. He took care of the local cemetery and did many ceremonies for his fellow soldiers as they were buried. When he died, his headstone was unmarked and he never received the ceremony that was due to him for the defense he gave for truth.
A silence followed. A man then came forward and he leaned a rifle upon the headstone along with a canteen and knapsack. He then gave a little honorary speech and gravely saluted. Then the boy scouts came forward and one placed a rose in front of the headstone, honored him, and saluted along with the others. Two ladies lastly came forward and placed a picture of a group of men and a pedestal with a wreath of evergreens beside the gravestone. They also saluted Henry with grave dignity. During the placement of these items the group of people was silent as the trees surrounding us. We stood as one remembering and thanking the sacrifice Henry Northrop gave for us.
While the ceremony progressed, planes would pass over head. They flew so low that more than once the speakers had to stop talking and wait for the airplane to pass. This happened over three times.
Then the final and most awing salute took place. A few men were dressed like civil war soldiers and stood at attention throughout the ceremony while obeying the commands of their officer. They wore khaki coloured pants and green overcoats. The men also had about their shoulders an ammunition pouch. It was now that their leader ordered them to aim. In response to the order the rifles were raised to the soldiers’ cheeks. Then came the order: Fire. All the rifles went off as one Every time they fired, it caused me to jump inside. Though I was expecting it to be loud, the panging inside my chest did not cease. . Then the rifles were brought down and reloaded. The reloading took longer than a modern gun does. For these were, in fact, old rifles from the time of the Civil War. Then came the fire and smoke from the gun. Bringing their rifles down again, the soldiers reloaded with quick, laboring movements, and then fired for the last time. Shouldering their guns, they turned around as one and stood attention. Then a prayer was said, and Henry Northrop finally received his honor from the people of the United States.
After the ceremony, it was announced that a flag was to be dedicated to the cemetery and that whoever wished to stay for this dedication was welcome. Most of the people stayed, and we all walked over to the flag nearby. A speech was said by two of the veterans, and they saluted. Then it was announced that throughout the cemetery a flag was put beside each grave of a veteran.
Mom and I then walked throughout the cemetery. It was the most beautiful cemetery you could ever imagine. It was as if they simply started to dig the graves right in the middle of a forest. All throughout the cemetery flowers of numerous colours were surrounding the gravestones with beauty and fragrance. There were petunias, roses, marigolds, Mary blue eyes, as well as baskets of flowers hanging from a metal post over the gravestone. Also placed on the graves were statues of angels, saints, and animals. We read the names of veterans of the Civil War, World War I, World War II, Vietnam War, and the Korean War. There were some who were born at the time of the Revolutionary War. Many graves belonged to babies or young children and some were unmarked.
One gravestone was sloping up the roots of a giant tree. The tree’s boughs and trunk were thick with age and the wrinkles on the bark were numerous. The shade underneath the branches was complete and coolness crept below it. We figured the tree must have been very small when the grave was dug.
We soon thought that we were at the end of the cemetery when we saw a chain go across the path to the side and a full woods opening up. Yet, we looked further, and we saw that people were back there, and the cemetery was still back in the deeper forest. We then walked back into the woods and saw that there were still many graves amid the trees. There were two hills that led further down and even down there were graves. It was a very peaceful place and a very beautiful restful environment. We left the deeper part of the wood and walked the road back to the car while looking at the headstones as we passed. We then saw three identical headstones lined up next to each other with a flag by each. We read one and saw that he fought and died in Word War II, we looked at the next one and saw that he was the brother of the first one and also fought and died in World War II. The last one was also the same case. These three were brothers in World War II and each one of them died fighting. How the mother cried I could only imagine!
In this little cemetery the beauty of love was truly wrought. The love for truth and justice shown in the veterans, the love of a family member as a teddy bear was placed on the grave of a lost child, the love of many families planted around the headstones in flowers and beauty. Most of all you could feel the love of God wrought around each and every one of these people. As these veterans died for truth, we must strive to keep the truth alive in the hearts and minds of all in the world, though we may be plagued with the darkness of the world. The eyes of every Christian need to be alert and pray to God that they may stay strong among the churning waters of lies. Without Jesus Christ nothing matters, nothing takes any meaning, nothing is true, nothing is good. There will be no unity in the world without Jesus. For, God is ALL.