All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.
The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever. It was a sunny, late summer's day. I had an hour to kill and decided to do so walking in a serene, wooded area. Walking along I came to a quaint New England style church that was literally tucked away in a curve of the winding road. Behind the building was a cemetary occupying several acres.