ENGLAND: A.D 1377
I looked down at my mother, she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed and the cross of lead clutched in her hands. But to think that she would never awake to look at me and tell me I am going to be alright, to think that I never said a proper goodbye. To think that I will be alone and have to support myself.
It was not long after I had found my mother, Asta that father Quinel arrived he wrapped the black shroud around her to symbolise her death. As we walked through the fields no one stopped they merely looked, and kept working. Once we had finally reached the old walled cemetery behind the church; Father Quinel slowly lowered her down into the hole and removed the cross from her grip. I stood with Father Quinel looking
I looked down at my mother, she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed and the cross of lead clutched in her hands. But to think that she would never awake to look at me and tell me I am going to be alright, to think that I never said a proper goodbye. To think that I will be alone and have to support myself.
It was not long after I had found my mother, Asta that father Quinel arrived he wrapped the black shroud around her to symbolise her death. As we walked through the fields no one stopped they merely looked, and kept working. Once we had finally reached the old walled cemetery behind the church; Father Quinel slowly lowered her down into the hole and removed the cross from her grip. I stood with Father Quinel looking