A framed sketch of Joseph Augustus Zarelli sat between two candles by the church altar, and one by one, visitors who likely never met the boy came to pay respects on a sunny Wednesday after Christmas. Some kneeled and snapped pictures and others put their fingers to their lips, then touched his little face in black and white.
A few stood quietly, clasping their hands together in prayer.
“I just felt the need to be here, that I had to be here,” Pat Flood-Williams, 68, said in front of the portrait.
