Malcolm's charming description makes us wish we could have been along for the memorable journey: We left Kensington at eight o’clock in the morning, arrived at Uxbridge just after one thirty pm, and reached Beaconsfield around eight-thirty in the evening. Thankfully, the graveyard doors were still open, so we straggled in and made our way to the grave that Chesterton, despite being a man of the broadest possible girth, shares with his wife, Frances, and secretary, Dorothy Collins. He always was a kind man. When you read something – anything – by him, you will see that. Read the whole heartwarming account here. Kudos to these pilgrims for their inspiring witness to the importance Chesterton has had in so many lives.
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