John McCrae’s poem, In Flanders Field, speaks to the heartache of war.  When I was a child, I sold poppies for the American Legion Auxiliary every Memorial Day. Because of McCrae’s poem, the poppy became a symbol of war dead, and also of a way to help disabled veterans.

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.

This weekend, we remember the painful losses of so many families, whose children, brothers, sisters,spouses, moms,  dads, grandchildren, nieces or nephews did not come home from the wars they were sent to.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” John 15:13