Why Wear A Poppy?

Geez! Has it been that long since I’m written here?! Wowsers. Time kinda gets away from me now and then. The summer was packed with friends, family and fun; and had little time for writing. Let’s get back to it!

Now that I’ve got a few minutes, time for a little reflection…

This week, I was at a book release event for Al McOrmond’s book “Portraits of Valour” (www.wdpublishing.com) which has collection of WWII portraits painted by the late Murray Saint. Accompanying each portrait is a story of the individual. This book was of particular interest to me because in it’s pages are my mother in-law Elsie McGhee and her late husband George (who had the nickname ‘Scorch’ in the war), along with George’s brother Albert (nicknamed ‘Muff’ in the war). It was pretty cool being there with Elsie; having her stand along side her portrait. So there are a few personal reasons to pause and reflect from my wife’s side.

On my side, there was my father’s father Doug Wood; and my Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Frank, Uncle Leonard and Uncle Norm. I’ve been told that my Grandmother Mary had the distinction of being one of the few, possibly the only, mother with 5 family members in the service at the same time in Canada. The story goes that there was a special Maple Leaf given to the homes of those that served and Grandma was the only one that had 5 displayed in her window. It just makes me think.

On Q107 a couple of days ago I heard John Derringer reciting this poem on the air and knew I wanted to share it here.

It’s called “Why Wear a Poppy” by Donald J Crawford.


WHY WEAR A POPPY
By Don Crawford

“Please wear a poppy,” the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
“Lady”, said he, “may I have one?”
When she’d pinned it on he turned to say,
“Why do we wear a poppy today?”

The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, “This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free –
That’s why we wear a poppy, you see.

“I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
And became a man – as you will, too.

“He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, ‘Goodbye,
I’ll be back soon, Mom, so please don’t cry.’

“But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

“Till at last, at last, the war was won –
And that’s why we wear a poppy, son.”
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, “Thanks, lady, I’m glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
but your son – did he come back all right?”

A tear rolled down each faded cheek:
She shook her head, but didn’t speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you’d have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, is oft-delayed,
Though our freedom was bought – and thousands paid!

And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country’s call
That we, in peace, may see the sun.

Please wear a poppy, it says: “Well done.”


Everyone has their personal story of what Remembrance Day means to them and who they think of and why. I just hope you do, in whatever way suits you.