Ruthie’s not the only 7-year-old (or however young she is) who thought that way. I was 7 when my grandmother died. I wandered into an empty room in the funeral home and saw one of those pedestals sitting unoccupied at the end of the room similar to where my grandmother’s casket was sitting in our room. One of the employees came in behind me and asked if he could help. I asked him what that thing at the end of the room was called; he told me it was a bier. IIRC, my reaction was along the lines of “It doesn’t look like a beer.” He explained the difference.
Ruthie’s not the only 7-year-old (or however young she is) who thought that way. I was 7 when my grandmother died. I wandered into an empty room in the funeral home and saw one of those pedestals sitting unoccupied at the end of the room similar to where my grandmother’s casket was sitting in our room. One of the employees came in behind me and asked if he could help. I asked him what that thing at the end of the room was called; he told me it was a bier. IIRC, my reaction was along the lines of “It doesn’t look like a beer.” He explained the difference.