When my daughter was 4, I sent her to a private preschool. It met in an old church with a lovely playground, next to the churchyard cemetery. My daughter enjoyed her time there very much and the teachers were very good with her. Once she was school-aged, she would comment about the preschool every time we drove by.
One day were driving in another part of town. We drove past a very large cemetery that covered many acres, Holy Cross, on the south side of the city. My daughter, seeing the endless rows of headstones, turned and said to me, “Mom, that is a really big preschool!”
She hadn’t realized that the preschool’s churchyard cemetery had a purpose other than offering a buffer between the classroom and the playground. When I explained what the cemetery was actually for, she didn’t want to believe me. She was sad that so many people had passed away. My daughter can be very compassionate – she understands what it is to miss someone who has passed away – and she felt sad that so many families had felt that pain.