Remembrance Day

I, like thousands of other good Canadians, did the right thing this morning and got out of bed and dressed in something warm and headed off to the local Cenotaph to remember those who gave their lives serving this great country. My little town has a little over 1000 dwellers and about 10% come out to the Remebrance Day services each year. To me that is not really a good number. I would like to see 500 people out for the services each year. I think then that would be a number to be proud of. Remembrance Day did not always mean so much to me. For many years I saw it as a day off from school and an opportunity to stay in bed a little longer. I hated all those long boring TV shows that show black and white pictures of men in ditches running around with guns. It had no meaning.

On the wall in my mother and father's house is an old black and white photo. It is in a lovely old frame matted with an oval. In the middle is one of the only photos of my paternal grandfather. It was taken of him in his uniform just before he went overseas in the first World War. He would have been 16 years old. He enlisted underage by lying about his age. He was born in 1901 and so that would have put the picture being taken in 1917. It is a lovely old picture of him and I have often looked at it with curiosity. You see my grandfather died when he was 54 years old of liver cancer long before I was born and so I never met him.

I read the news each day and watch what is happening in Afghanistan and I think about the soldiers that are working so hard to make the lives of people I will never see better. They are building schools and hospitals and they are watching children die that cannot fend for themselves. They are watching old people not be able to get the medical care they need. They are seeing infrastructure of a country undermined by the terror of militant groups that don't have the right to rule with fear.

We are so lucky to be able to send our children off on a bus in the morning without the worry of our daughters being raped or their faces being burnt with acid in an unwarranted attack and our sons being stolen into becoming child soldiers or forced to become suicide bombers. We are so lucky to be able to walk into a clinic and get a flu shot free if we really need it. We are so lucky to be able eat a variety of foods and not just rice. We are so lucky to turn on a tap and get a glass of water and not have to carry our water for miles in buckets hanging from our shoulders. Our children and our grandchildren may not always have the luxuries we do. Our soldiers help to make our lives the way they are.....

Now that I have volunteered to help out with the Junior Canadian Rangers I have met many military people.... I pray that they stay safe. Especially Sargeant Lionel Paculak who is preparing to head over to Afghanistan as I write. I hope all our soldiers stay safe, as they fight to help those less fortunate than us. Maybe if we help them some day that will come back.... look at the Dutch who revere the second World War Canadian soldiers who helped them in the war. They are so grateful and we can only be glad we helped.

I'm proud of my grandfather for wanting to help even though he never wanted to talk about his experiences on the battlefield. It is good to be proud of someone who is fighting for the end of terrony. Take a moment and look up the soldiers who fight for us, who fight for others. You will feel so proud.....