At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, please pause for just a moment and remember the valor of those who died and those who served.
— Erick
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.
We owe them, and their families, a debt that can never be fully repaid.
Also, many whose faith was founded in Jesus have certainly gone, ahead of us, to our eternal home.
Only the brave!🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸❤️