One Sunday morning, the preacher noticed little Billy was staring up at the plaque that hung
in the foyer of the church.
It was covered with names and small American flags were mounted on either side of it.
The seven-year-old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the preacher walked
up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly: "Good morning, Billy."
"Good morning, Preacher," replied the young man, still focused on the plaque.
"Preacher, what is this?"
"Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died while in the service."
Soberly, they stood together, staring at the plaque.
Little Billy's voice was barely audible when he asked: "Which service, the 9:45 or the 11:00?"