“Your husband is alive,” the poor boy said softly to the woman sobbing at the grave.
He wasn’t supposed to be there. Barefoot, muddy, and silent, the boy had quietly slipped through the cemetery gate before anyone noticed. He didn’t belong among the polished shoes and black coats, but still, he stood there no older than seven at the edge of the funeral crowd, eyes locked on the grieving woman.
She stood alone, tall and graceful, dressed in black from head to toe. One gloved hand rested gently on the marble gravestone, where a framed photo of her late husband, Richard Halberg, sat smiling out at the world. Richard the man they said died in a jet crash. But the boy knew something no one else did. He had seen Richard Halberg alive. It happened weeks earlier. The boy had been scrounging near the airport, hungry and desperate. Sometimes the…..Read Full Story Here.…………………….
