In April of 1915 a battle-weary Canadian Army Col. John McCrae looked upon the final resting place of thousands of young men who had fallen in the second battle of Ypres in Belgium. He sadly gazed at the endless rows of graves each marked with a lonely white cross and surrounded by fields of poppies. As je stood silently in remembrance of the lives that were sacrificed, he heard larks singing overhead of the graves. It was then he penned the poem "Flanders Field".
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.
Check back for more dates, places and times we will be out in the community with poppies.
or check out this YouTube video.
