A few years ago I stopped by my Grandma and Grandpa Rose’s grave at Christmas time to leave a flower. Before I approached their grave, I noticed the sweetest little Christmas tree I have ever seen, decorated with homemade ornaments. I stopped to admire it and realized it sat at the head of my cousin’s grave. Karen Rose was born December 20, 1952 and died three days later. She was buried on Christmas Eve.
I knew that my Aunt and Uncle had a tradition of taking their other children on or around her birthdate to the grave to decorate a tree, but this was the first time I had actually seen it. I was so touched that after all these years my aunt and uncle now in their late eighties, still carried on this tradition with their family.
I realized the death of any child would be heartbreaking, and loosing a baby at Christmas time must add to the distress. With tears in my eyes, I understood for the first time our Rose family Christmas party was held on the day she past away. How hard that must of been for them—but they never seemed sad.
For sixty-one years, they’ve celebrated her birth with a Christmas tree and focused on their knowledge that they would someday reunite with Karen. What a wonderful gift our Heavenly Father has given us through Jesus Christ—who made it possible for us to be reunited with family, not just at Christmas time, but throughout all eternity.
Thank you Uncle Wayne and Aunt Joy for your example of making a happy life despite heartache and disappointment.
How very sweet.