CANDLES
Before a statue of Joan of Arc, in a little country church, a child knelt in prayer.
Oh protect my papa—the little one prayed.
She lighted a candle—offered it to the Maid of France.
A young girl prayed at the feet of the Saint. She burned a candle.
For André—for his safety.
The invaders entered the village,—heeding neither church nor ground of the dead.
They ripped open shallow graves to show the living they had power—even over those who had gone. They killed the priest. And the nuns, even, from the school.
They damaged.