source |
On November 11 we observed Remembrance Day here in Canada. Remembrance Day (similar to our Veterans' Day or Memorial Day) is specifically designated to honor and remember those soldiers who served during WWI, WWII and other wars. Around the city, you can see many people wearing red poppies as a symbol of remembrance.
This past Wednesday, I had the opportunity to attend a Remembrance Day Service with the residents of the Retirement Community where I work. We walked down the block to St. John's School to be honored guests at the service. It was such a great and humbling experience to attend such an event with those who were alive during the WWII era. One of our residents is originally from Holland and was in the Dutch Army during the war. He was there when the Germans invaded his country. He was there when the Gestapo patrolled the streets. He was part of the underground resistance movements. He had friends executed. Remembrance Day he said, is especially hard for him. As it is for so many people whom the wars have changed and affected.
The service that day ended with the reading of this poem:
In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918) Canadian Army
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918) Canadian Army
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment