We Are the Dead


I always "buy" a poppy whenever I see a VFW selling one. It reminds me of my grandparents. They would display the cheap red poppies proudly. My grandpa would wear one in his lapel and my grandma would sport one like a treasured brooch. I never knew the history of the poppy, so I looked it up. Here it is:

The poem "In Flander's Field" describes a battlefield of crosses dotted with red poppies. The poem deeply touched the nation and the world, and, from that point on, poppies became known throughout the world as a memorial flower, a reminder of the lives lost in wartime.

"In Flander's Fields" by John McCrae

In Flander's Fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scare 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.

This Memorial Day Weekend let's carry on the tradition. Please make a donation and wear your poppy.