An obituary published in the local paper caught Martha’s eye.
“Poor Mr. Aldridge has passed away.”
Martha’s husband hid behind his Times, “Humph” his reply.
“Do you think we should attend his funeral. He doesn’t have any friends that I know of.”
“Humph.”
Martha knew Mr. Aldridge enough to say hello, him not being very social or active in the neighbourhood. The thought of his funeral being unattended was unthinkable. On a chilly but bright morning Martha wandered down to the church with a bouquet of flowers from her garden. Walking up the path of the churchyard, she noticed a crowd of military men all in full-dress uniform. She hesitated slightly, and a gentleman behind her urged her on. Walking into the church, she marvelled at the beautiful flowers; half the pews were full of military men. Sidling into the back pews, she watched the ceremony.
Speaker after speaker spoke of his great bravery in all the conflicts he had fought in. Shocked Martha felt tears fall. How could she not have asked more about him when he was alive? She was ashamed that she hadn’t tried. His burial in the churchyard was with full military honours. Tears fell again, a gentleman carrying a flag walked up to her offering her the flag. Shaking her head, she explained she wasn’t a relative only a neighbour. She didn’t really know him.
His reply was, “You are the only person to show up and pay your respects. Bill didn’t have any family, the army was his family so we would like to give you the flag to remember him.”
Clutching it to her chest she felt honoured.
At the wake in a local hotel Martha got to hear all about Bill and the life he had lived. Every man spoke with such warmth it humbled her.Tucking the flag under her arm, she returned home, vowing to tell everyone about Bill and what a hero he was.
