Lest We Forget

Vancouver's 2010 Remembrance Day ceremony attracted an even larger crowd than usual to this year's event; it seems part of the tradition now, to see an increase in attendance each November 11.

The ceremony at the Cenotaph concludes with the remaining WWII veterans placing their single white roses with singular determination, in memory of those whose hair never got to grow as grey, whose children, and grandchildren, could not accompany them during this traditional gesture of remembrance.

We may sincerely say Thank You, but the words are like the raindrops also seemingly part of the fabric of this ceremony's tradition. They come, and they go. It's the memory of the gesture that tends to remain; the tender hand on the shoulder speaking more eloquently and casting a longer shadow on the mind than mere words could ever do. The gestures, and the contact that comes with them: these are what renew the shared hope that there may still be a better tomorrow.

We watch, and we can't help but wonder: was the sacrifice worth it? What promise, is there, for Peace?
As ever, the answer is everywhere around us, carried in the thoughtful eyes of the young.

Many are not yet old enough to read the names of those represented through the many wreaths laid in their memory. Still, their young minds, like their delicate hands, reach out to understand the deeper meaning to what they witnessed today. And Thank God, there are many who make a point to help them appreciate what these gestures are to mean to them.

"Say Thank You", they are coached by grateful parents, and the bashful smile that animates the child's grateful touch must surely bring a renewal of faith to the older hands that gently receive it. A renewal of faith through gratitude, and with it, a chance for Peace.



Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget.

Vancouver Remembrance Day ceremony

A little rain and a lot of cold did little to dampen the spirits of those in attandance at the 2007 Vancouver Remembrance Day ceremony held once again at the Cenotaph. This view above is the vantage point from which I observed the event this year.

The construction site across from the park paid their respects to the veterans, serving troops as well as members of the police and firefighters as they parade past the memorial.

Following the event, comes the unofficial custom of citizens solemnly paying their individual respects over the various wreaths laid around the base of the Cenotaph during the ceremony itself.

World War II veterans in attendance filed past the wreaths and paid their respects to our troops fallen in Afghanistan, each leaving a flower, as pictured above. One particular older gentleman, his hands and body shaking with the tremors of age, nonetheless steadied himself for a rigid and determined salute as he laid his tribute within the wreath at left, and that's when the tears started flowing for me. God Bless these people, and Godspeed to their families.

I don't know if this is customary in other parts of the country, or even in other parts of our province, but here the tradition is to leave your poppy affixed to a wreath which has special meaning or connection for the observer. Mine gets left in memory of the child survivors of the Holocaust, courageous souls who dared to embrace life despite their memories of being surrounded by death, memories the likes of which I cannot begin to imagine.

The ceremony, and Remembrance Day as a whole, serves as a humbling reminder of our duty to prove ourselves worthy of the great gift that has been bestowed upon us, that of being Canadian. We can say "thank you", but it's mere words unless one also acts thankful. We can say we remember their sacrifice, but it's hollow praise unless we act on that memory, recognizing our debt by acting upon our gratitude, by building a good life worthy of the sacrifice others have made on our behalf.

To whom much has been given, much is expected. Now, we carry the torch; long may we hold it high, so that it's light may remind us of a shared commitment to help to keep our land glorious, and free.