Memorial Day 2012

Memorial Day is an important observance for our family. I grew up attending Memorial Day services and The Lawyer and I have sought out services in the different places we have lived. In the small farming community where I grew up, it seemed the speakers were almost always the same. There were two "gold-star mothers;" we knew them by name and spoke with them afterward. Over the years the faces grew older but the solemnity of the occasion remained. There were years that I played in the band and then years that my siblings and friends did. Dad would take us to visit the graves of our relatives and tell us about the sacrifices some of them made in our country's wars. It left a deep impression on me.

"In Flanders Fields" is one of the most notable poems written during World War I.  Canadian physician and Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae wrote it on 3 May 1915 after he witnessed the death of his friend, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, 22 years old, the day before. This poem was recited at every Memorial service I can remember growing up.

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.

A Poem for Mothers

The Girl I Used To Be
by Rowena K. Lewis


She came tonight as I sat alone, the girl I used to be.

And she gazed at me with her earnest eye, and questioned reproachfully:

Have you forgotten the many plans and hopes that I had for you?

The great career, the splendid fame, all the wonderful things to do?

Where is the mansion of stately height, with all of its gardens rare?

The silken robes that I dreamed for you, and the jewels in your hair?

And as she spoke, I was very sad, for I wanted her pleased with me.

This slender girl from the shadowy past, the girl that I used to be.

So gently rising, I took her hand, and guided her up the stair

Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay, innocent, sweet, and fair.

And I told her that these are my only gems, and precious they are to me;

That silken robe is my motherhood, of costly simplicity.

And my mansion of stately height is love, and the only career I know

Is serving each day in these sheltered walls, for the dear ones who come
and go.

And as I spoke to my shadowy guest, she smiled through her tears at me.

And I saw that the woman that I am now, pleased the girl that I used to
be.

Copyright 1997 Rowena K. Lewis.