Here’s a piece I wrote last year for Remembrance Day. I felt it still stood on it’s merits, so here it is again, for those that may not have partaken in it’s content last year.
Some gave all.
What kind of day is today. Will the daylight warm my sun-kissed cheeks, or will the blustery winds wail upon my exposed flesh as I walk through the streets of London, taking in the sights of the dormant trees that occupy my field of vision.
Or, will I take a moment, and think about those that can no longer experience any of this.
To many, November 11th is a half day off of work. And seeing that this date falls upon a Sunday this year, these people will gripe about that loss. To school children, it’s nothing more than a recitation of some dusty old poem. Or dreaded homework over the weekend writing a passage on what November 11th means to them. It may bring an assembly, and welcomed time away from school blackboards, but nothing more.
To most Canadians, it is a staid, rigid program that happens…
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