As i wake up, it feels just like any other day of the year. Yet this day holds a unique importance and meaning which distinguishes it from any other. It is on this day people take time out of their busy schedules and remember the courageous men and women who risked and continue to risk their lives to guarantee the rights, freedoms and security of society. We wear a poppy to pay respect to those who did so much to insure the peace of our country and the world around us. Ninety-one years ago, on the 11th hour of the 11th day in the 11th month, World War I ended. This war was suppose to mark the end of all wars. Looking back, it is now evident that this is not the case. Throughout the years, conflicts continue to rise around the world. The astonishing aspect is that although men and women now understand the consequences and risks, they continue to fight for what is right. After all these decades, the struggle to find world peace continues. Will it ever become a reality? Although all evidence points negative, there lies hope within those who still believe. That is why they continue to pursue their mission, and this is why we take time to remind ourselves of their devotion and persistence. It is impossible to even imagine what any individual has had to go through in such times of warfare. Every veteran has there own unique story. Only they have witnessed the disturbing reality of the world out there. The pain and struggles one must have gone through in their position, is something only they will ever comprehend. Luckily for us, their reality will only ever remain a story but hopefully we can allow it to educate ourselves and change us for the better. The very least we can do is recognize their courageous acts, wear a poppy, and share a universal moment of silence every year on November 11th. With this in mind, I leave you all with a famous poem written by John McCrae, a Canadian poet, physician, and soldier who served in World War I.
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.

