- Feb 15, 2016
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A week from today our country recognizes those men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice in defense of liberty. To me, this is our most sacred national holiday. It is a time to remember those fallen heroes who are the reason we are free. At the cost of their lives, they protected us from tyranny spawned abroad and at home. They choose to give their “last, full measure of devotion” for our sake. Memorial Day is not to recognize serving or former members of the military services, Veterans’ Day is for that. Armed Forces Day exists to thank current soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines and now guardians for their on-going service. No, Memorial Day is to remember and honor “heroes proved in liberating strife” who, having placed their lives between their beloved home and war’s desolation, paid in their blood for all of us. On the last Monday in May, before the hamburgers are grilled, before the hotdogs are cooked and before you enjoy the beach or mountains, take some time to gaze on our Flag, contemplate the cost of freedom, and get down on your knees and thank God for those Heroes. Remember; never forget; never cease to be grateful; never let the torch of Liberty fall to the ground. We are surrounded by a great cloud of heroes who are watching.
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.
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.