John's friend Alexis died.
And so, John McCrae MD was asked to speak
at his friend's memorial.
It was in this setting that he was inspired to write some words,
in hopes of capturing the moment that would somehow reflect his dear friend, Alexis Helmer and the emotions flowing through his heart and mind.
Yet in his grief, he was dissatisfied at the inadequacy of mere words and he threw it away.
And that was that, or so it seemed.
John's friends, in a moment of Divine serendipity came upon the poem that was written to remember
and then thrown away to be forgotten.
Fortunately for us, words written in a friend's grief were rescued from never being seen to being remembered as one of the most recognizable pieces of our time.
Precious words, perfectly ordered were retrieved and in the end were salvaged for you and me.
And so we have "In Flanders Field", a poem used more often than any other to reflect on the selflessness of sacrifice.
As you celebrate freedoms afforded to few and recall these words written by a broken hearted friend; words that didn't seem quite enough, remember if you will, the rows of crosses that lay 'row on row' in Flanders Field and the tears that have soaked each one.
God bless you.
And so, John McCrae MD was asked to speak
at his friend's memorial.
It was in this setting that he was inspired to write some words,
in hopes of capturing the moment that would somehow reflect his dear friend, Alexis Helmer and the emotions flowing through his heart and mind.
Yet in his grief, he was dissatisfied at the inadequacy of mere words and he threw it away.
And that was that, or so it seemed.
John's friends, in a moment of Divine serendipity came upon the poem that was written to remember
and then thrown away to be forgotten.
Fortunately for us, words written in a friend's grief were rescued from never being seen to being remembered as one of the most recognizable pieces of our time.
Precious words, perfectly ordered were retrieved and in the end were salvaged for you and me.
And so we have "In Flanders Field", a poem used more often than any other to reflect on the selflessness of sacrifice.
As you celebrate freedoms afforded to few and recall these words written by a broken hearted friend; words that didn't seem quite enough, remember if you will, the rows of crosses that lay 'row on row' in Flanders Field and the tears that have soaked each one.
God bless you.
And God bless America.
Carry on living and never forget.
Carry on living and never forget.
-s.marx
"IN 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
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."
-John McCrae
May 3, 1915
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please take a moment to tell me how you are, I would love to hear from you.