Today’s story in honour of Remembrance Day appeared in my book Dragonflies, Snowdrifts and Spice Cake.
November 11 is known as Remembrance Day in Canada. In other countries, it is called Armistice Day or Poppy Day. This date marks the anniversary of the official end of World War 1, November 11, 1918. As a holiday the day commemorates the sacrifices made in armed conflicts. Countless numbers have given their lives. Many more have suffered serious injuries and great emotional scars.
The sacrifice that so many have paid to ensure a better life for those who followed is overwhelming. That’s why, on this day and for weeks before, people wear artificial poppies as a symbol of remembrance. There’s also a period of silence at the eleventh hour to remember these sacrifices. Many areas have commemoration ceremonies and military parades.
Those who made the sacrifices are remembered and appreciated. Among those I honour are my father and father-in-law, who both fought in World War 11.
While I’m remembering those sacrifices, I need to remember the greatest sacrifice of all. Jesus gave his life so that I may have the opportunity to spend eternity with him. He paid the penalty for my sins so that I may be forgiven. He knew what the outcome would be but carried it through because of his great love. This is something I didn’t deserve. This gift is something to thank him for each and every day.
“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” (1 John 3:16 NIV)
Beautifully written and shared. I love how you brought in Jesus sacrifice. I wonder if any of our family fought in wars beside your Dad. I always remember that he was in the war and I held him in high regard. How long was he away from the family?? You all paid a price as he was gone from your home and life for so long.
Blessings dear Tandy. I love you steadfast discipline and focus on Jesus. Shirley
Shirley, I am not aware of others in our family who fought in wars. My dad was away from home for the birth of his first child and then at least another three years after. It would have been tough on the family. By the time I came along, the war was over and he was home. I don’t remember ever hearing stories about his time in the service. It just wasn’t talked about. This was only one small story of the many sacrifices made for our freedom.