Finding the dustbin

After eating our galette, a speciality dessert of Perouge(a medieval city in France), we wanted to find a dustbin to throw our paper bags from the dessert. We kept finding till we arrived at the entrance of the cemetery. We still could not find it. Since, we are already at the entrance of the cemetery, Tai Qin and I decided to go in to the cemetery for a walk.

It was quite interesting, it was actually the first time I ever went into a cemetery. In the cemetery, there were various graves: some families buried together, some buried alone, some graves had flowers, others had withering flowers, some even have no flowers at all. Some graves were remembered, visited, some had been abandoned, forgotten. Some other graves have the French flag as a symbol of their contribution to the war, some had fire fighters plates, one had a beautiful poem, others had faded words. Some died at a ripe age of 83, some died young even as young as 8.

Each stone had a story to tell, for each one had lived on earth, had interacted with other people and surely in one way influenced other people. What was the story? What will it be for those who are still living?

After walking through once, we returned to the entrance of the cemetery and voila! It was there! We had found the dustbin. It has been always there at the entrance of the cemetery. It is just that we did not notice it. It is only after having our perspective changed, that we suddenly realized its presence.

So I guess life is somewhat similar. We often never realised the things that we are looking for are just right in front of us, staring into our faces. Probably after reflection and comtemplation of other people's life, and having our perspective changed, we only can find it.