And, as usual, it seems to me that the closer November 11th gets, the drearier your weather is.
This morning, our church held a Remembrance Service, before worship. We are one of the few communities that has its own cenotaph. I always find the remembrance day services so moving, especially the reading of the names of those from the community who fought and died in the wars. As I stood there, with my feet freezing, and snow falling on the gathering, I thought to myself, that as cold and uncomfortable as I was, it was nothing, compared to the exposure of our soldiers to the elements, and the horrible days they went through.
Perhaps it is good that the days of remembrance are dark and dreary, reflecting the hearts of many family members who lost fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers and today, sons and daughters, grandsons, and granddaughters.
The day is dark, windy and cold
We stand at the cenotaph
Shivering, with head bowed.
A moment of silence
in honour of those who fought and died.
Their days were dark, windy and cold,
their silence broken by the sounds of guns
and seeking safely in the muck and mud,
they hoped to see the morrow.
For some, this hope was not fulfilled,
as life blood poured out on the ground
and tomorrow never came.
Yes we should remember
those brave souls who fought and died,
and pray that the peace they died to save
will someday, with us abide,
That we might see tomorrow.
Lest We Forget