...to all who served...praise God for their safe return to hearth and home...
...but we remember on this solemn day all those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country and we honor their memory...
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
On a sunny afternoon in late May back in 1969 my twelve year old self stood on a platform in front of women in flowered dresses and gray haired men in faded military uniforms and recited that poem. I didn't understand the meaning then, and wondered at the solemnity of the occasion marked by sober faces and heartfelt tears.To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Many years later my youngest son announced he was going to war, and when he was headed to Afghanistan I dreaded the worst.
Praise God he returned from Afghanistan physically unharmed, though not unchanged.
A reminder how thankful we should be for men and women who serve their country, putting themselves in harm's way to protect us and our way of life.
later, mcm fans...
