Workhouse grim, laden with grief, stark against the cold blue November sky. Solemn crows rendering it all the more ominous. Stone’s throw from ‘The Famine cemetery’, man’s inhumanity to man.
We pray silently for the souls of our ancestors, whose suffering, beyond shocking, is incomprehensible to us in this our day and time. Words superfluous, the scene before our eyes speaks loudly for itself, elucidating, chilling.
‘Forgiveness is not an occasional act; it is a constant attitude’. (Martin Luther King Jr.)
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