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His words were like a knife piercing deeply into my soul and I dropped to the ground.

The priest’s wife came and tried to console me, but nothing she said had any meaning. My baby was dead. It took me a long, long time to accept reality.

After a moment of silence, my Grandma Greek told Aunt Helen, “What hurts me the most is that he died before being baptized. Where did his soul go, I asked myself?”

Aunt Helen responded, “Your baby’s soul is not lost. He had not reached the age of accountability and he is with the Lord. Hearing the words of the Lord Jesus: Let the children come unto me for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”

Yes, my Grandma Greek had been through the worst as a mother and my Grandma Mabel was not spared that type of heartbreak either.