In 2012, I took two grandsons to visit the Normandy battle sites in France. At the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach, My grandsons and I were looking for the graves of two family members. While there, several very large buses pulled up in the parking lot and unloaded hundreds of French school children aged up to 12 or 13. For the next hour, a priest would sprinkle holy water on crosses and the children would kneed and pray over the American dead. It was a moving experience that stays with me today.
But, as I was leaving, I was struck with utter distress that I would never live long enough to see American school children praying over the graves of American soldiers. It still haunts me today.