Week 47


Yesterday I spoke at a funeral. but this time it was different. The deceased woman was the mother of one our brothers at São Lourenço. As soon as Dayse and I got at the cemetery, we noticed there were many children. I counted ten children one time. There were present four generations. We questioned to ourselves, should children attend funerals? Should we expose them to the concept of mortality at the age of 10? 
On one hand, we thought that was a too traumatic to see the corpse of a loved one that wouldn't ever come back. On the other hand, death as tragic at it is is part of life. Until when should we hide this reality from our children? At what age are they capable of assimilating that this beautiful life, full of beautiful people is yet not so beautiful, and it has an end for us all? Is this a healthy existential experience for such an early age? Too many questions, I know. I admit I don't an answer. I don't have a stance. The children though I saw yesterday screamed aloud. Their screams even left the adults disturbed and uneasy. The moments the casket was closed and finally when it covered with sand were so strong. They screamed, "Don't do it [throw sand]!" "Please, come back!" "Don't do this to her."   Of course their understanding of death was still so attached to the physical world. No conception of supernaturalism or spirituality. 
When it was all over, funeral and children's commotion, I noticed two boys who were so serene, standing next to me. Like angels. These were the boys of our brother in Christ. They faithfully attend church.