Within the heart-shaped hedges of Lullaby Land are the gravesites of infants and children.
A flagstone path leads into the small, perfectly tended garden.
At the very center of the heart is a stone figure of a cherub. Its wings are unfurled as if it has just arrived and perched on its pedestal; its finger pressed to its lips as if to gently shush the babies and children to sleep.
There is no other sound.
Tears fall silently.
Some tears escape her hand-brushed cheek and drop to her daughter’s heart-shaped headstone on which she had placed a single, pink rose.
Painstakingly she had planned the design of the infant’s marker – an agonizing task to somehow, in some way, capture the memory of lulling her baby to sleep as she had rocked her in her cradle.
The passage of time will not in and of itself heal her wounded heart. There will forever be a piece of it left here within the heart-shaped hedges of this cemetery.
But one day, through the help of her bereavement support group and through her efforts to assist others – as surely as dawn breaks over the cherub and the souls it watches over – light will again break through the clouds of grief.
There will be a new sound.
A special and intimate sound – a sweet and soothing sound when she softly sings her baby’s lullaby – will be heard within the heart-shaped hedges.