A Sacred Grave

February 21st, 2008

In the small, unassuming town of Eunice, Louisiana in Acadia Parish, rests a brave, little girl that triumphed over the cancer that took her life by using her suffering to end that of others'.

Though you may have not heard of Charlene Marie Richard or her sacred and oft-visited grave in Saint Edwards Catholic Church Cemetery in Eunice, the twelve year-old cancer victim is more than just a local celebrity - an appeal for her canonization has been sent to the Pope in 2006 by the Friends of Charlene Association.

The fact that such an association even exists should give you some idea just how important this young woman - known as the "Little Cajun Saint" - is to thousands of believers around the world.

Charlene was born on January 13, 1947 to Joseph Elvin and Mary Alice Richard in Acadia Parish. In 1959, her young life was cut short by acute lymphatic leukemia only a few days after she was diagnosed with it. The poor child suffered for thirteen days at the Our Lady of Lourdes hospital in Lafayette, Louisiana in agonizing pain. At the suggestion of the hospital chaplain, Father Joseph Brennan, Charlene made the decision to "offer her pain for others". It was simply another way the remarkable young girl faced a slow, painful death with love, acceptance, and tranquility with a maturity and serenity beyond her years.

Always a pious child, Charlene was comfortable with her dying and going to be with God. She passed peacefully on August 11, 1959.

Since Charlene's death, a number of miracles have been reported by those praying for the intercession of Charlene Richard, and by praying at and leaving tokens or written petitions at her grave. People the world over are convinced that Charlene was a saint, and that her tomb - and any relics related to her - are sacred.

Next to her grave is a wooden, altar rail, a sun-bleached white church pew, and a plastic box with a lifting lid for petitioners to leave notes, prayers, and requests for Charlene. The grave is constantly cluttered with rosaries, fresh flowers, and small candles. A cement statue of the Virgin Mary looks down upon it all. (Click here for an excellent photograph of Charlene's grave).

The process of canonization takes years to complete, and though Charlene is not yet a recognized saint by the Roman Catholic Church's standards, her holy status is unquestioned in the minds of her fans and followers. Her grave has become a mecca for those seeking a miracle cure for terminal illness for themselves and loved ones, and people, literally the world over, have made the pilgrimage to her final resting place.

Charlene's grave has become more than just a tomb for her final remains; it has become an object of love, hope, and devotion for hundreds - the holy holding ground of a true saint and a tangible mark of the Almighty.

A Personal Loss

February 13th, 2008


It was the death of my friend and brother-in-law, Lance Corey Morel, on October 12, 2006, that actually caused me to stumble onto Find A Grave for the first time.

I found solace in keeping Lance's memory alive via the Internet, where I assured his immortality with countless online memorials and uploaded photographs. While looking for places to remember and honor deceased loved ones, I found Find A Grave and the hobby of "graving" was then born.

Though Lance's memorial was put up shortly after his death, his actual headstone at his grave took some time in coming (as is customary). I cannot explain the feeling of looking down at the cold granite and seeing the name of someone you love and know so well carved into it.

Visiting Lance's grave is always a reminder to me to show the utmost respect and reverence to every grave I visit and photograph. Each is someone's child and friend, perhaps someone's parent, sibling, or beloved co-worker. The person beneath the marker I am recording means the world to someone - likely to many someones - and I want to honor their cherished memories as much as I want to honor the deceased whose name will be memorialized on the website.

What I do is not only for the dead, you see. I know that I can personally say that having Lance's memorial on Find A Grave, and seeing people leave him messages and virtual flowers - knowing that he is remembered - gives me comfort I cannot put into words. it is my hope that the graves I record might, someday, give the same peace to those also left behind.

How it All Began

February 12th, 2008

A question on a Flickr group, Graves, Tombs and Cemeteries, I recently joined asked how everyone's fascination with cemeteries began.

I didn't even have to think about my answer - I knew it immediately. I thought, for anyone that comes here and was wondering the same, I'd share the response I posted there:

It was the old Catholic tradition, known as All Saints' Day, of honoring deceased loved ones by cleaning their graves and bringing fresh flowers to them on or before November 1st that began my love of cemeteries.

My Cajun great-grandmother, Melina, and grandmother, Dorothy, had many family members buried out in Avoyelles Parish at Immaculate Conception Church Cemetery in Dupont and Mater Dolorosa Catholic Cemetery in Plaucheville. We - Melina, Dorothy, my mother, Pamela, myself, and my little sister, Amber - returned there every year on or before Nov. 1 to clean the graves and bring colorful chrysanthemums.

On Halloween itself, we would clean the graves and bring chrysanthemums to our family in the local cemetery in Maringouin, Louisiana which were mostly my grandfather, Riley's, people.

As the grown-ups worked with weeding, washing, and tidying up the headstones and around the family plots, we children would play for hours among the graves.

To me, a precocious, imaginative child, every headstone was a story and I spent much time imagining what the person had been like in life and what they had done with their time on Earth.

These were, also, quiet, peaceful, and contemplative times spent with three older generations of the women in my family as we honored our family gone on before us and are - to this today - some of my most cherished memories.

My love of cemeteries was borne of these times and has never diminished.

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