Red

It was the funeral of Poppy Atkinson today.

She was the young girl killed in a tragic car accident at Kendal Rugby Club a couple of weeks ago.

Her cortege passed through town earlier and it had been publicised that if people wanted to pay their respects, could they come out wearing something red and/or a football shirt - her favourite team was Manchester United.

As I rounded the corner to join the crowds, it was at once heartwarming and heartbreaking to see how many people of all ages had actually come out to line the streets and honour the family’s wishes.

The police held traffic. Waiting drivers turned their engines off and stepped out of their vehicles to watch. No one spoke. Silence.

And then in the distance a ripple of respectful applause began and continued down to the foot of the hill to accompany the cortege as it made its way along the road, across the roundabout and headed into the town.

Once they had passed, we all turned and dispersed, most of us, thankfully, unable to even begin to comprehend the pain that poor family must be feeling.

May she rest in peace.

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