Memorial Day

[vivien]

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae

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.


My family was always very active in Veterans of Foreign Wars. My mom is still president of the local Women's Auxiliary. Every year on this day, I'd go with Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa to the two ceremonies at the two cemeteries in town, usually to hold one of the flags or on a couple of occasions to play Taps on my cornet. This poem was always read.

These ceremonies honored the soldiers who died then and the veterans who died during the past year. I always like to stop on Memorial Day and send out a thank you to those who we lost in wars, just or unjust, and to those who came back and did the best they could the rest of their lives.