Remember

Our store's original owner, Roy Young (thus the name, "Roy Young Ltd.") is a war veteran. He served his country. He fought and lived. He lives still, in his 90's, in his own home. I remember him, as a child, as being one of the most grumpy men I'd ever met. I didn't know his history until I was older, didn't understand. I never will understand. But I do know that I might not smile readily either, had I witnessed the same horror. He fought on the front lines. He saw his friends die. I understand he's never spoken to anyone about the war, not even his children. It is too painful for him. He was willing to sacrifice his life for me. It brings me to tears to think of it. And though the words are never enough, I say, "Thank you" just the same.

Always the most hauntingly beautiful poem...

In Flanders Fields

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.