by John McCrae 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 […]

Not how did he die but how did he live Not what did he gain but what did he give These are the units to measure the worth of a man as a man regardless of birth Not what was his church nor what was his creed? But had he befriended those really in need? […]

You left a beautiful memory and a sorrow too great to be told, but to us who loved and lost you, your memory will never grow old. Always a silent hurt, many a silent tear, but always a beautiful memory of one we loved so dear. God gave us strength to bear it, and courage […]