We're standing on a gentle, grassy slope in Orefield. It's a warm spring day; a day made for children to laugh and play, their voices ringing across the open fields.
It's the kind of day my sister Kay would love. She'd be frolicking with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, making each one feel like the best, most talented, most special and loved child in the world.
But the children aren't laughing today as we stand in Jordan Lutheran Church Cemetery. Their little faces are somber, and they sit quietly, waiting for the grown-ups to stop weeping.
