That was all. No screams about God's injustice, no cursing the rich who live so well at the expense of the poor. Just gratitude for the fragile gift of life. I am still a novice in learning this great wisdom of the poor. Death and life are so intimately woven together for them that there seems to be really no difference.
Death is life.
Life is death. They go together. Their tears are tears of sorrow and of gratitude at the same time. Of course they feel the wrenching pain of an infant death. The cross is no stranger to their lives.