Went to a funeral today of a woman I had never met before. She was the mother of Damon, one of our Cub Scouts, and she died in a car accident right after Cub Scouts Monday night. We knew her daughter and husband as well, because they come with Damon. Damon doesn't really get it. He's only 7, is enjoying the extra hugs, but doesn't seem to comprehend that his mother is gone. Forever. Tia (the daughter), on the other hand, has taken it very hard. I worry for Tia, for her growing up without the guidance and love of her mother, and I need to remember to pray rather than worry.
On a happier note, my nephew Sean snuggled a bit in my lap tonight during the Christmas program at their church. He kept asking where mommy was and if he could go see the baby Jesus. I could just see him tearing up the aisle to go meet that sweet baby, but fortunately I convinced him to stay with me.
And on a glorious note, I cannot imagine anything more beautiful sounding than a big, well-trained choir. Wow. They're good.
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