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The Plaque
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex was staring up at the
large plaque that hung in the foyer of the church. It was covered
with names, and small American flags were mounted on either side of it.
The seven year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the
pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly,
"Good
morning, Alex."
"Good morning, Father," replied the young man, still focused on
the
plaque. "Father, what is this?"
"Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died
in
the service."
Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque. Little
Alex's voice was barely audible when he asked, "Which service,
the 8 or the 10:30?"
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