Memorial Day

Memorial Day 2007

The origins of Memorial Day, as told in the book "Victorian Family Celebrations", by Sarah Ban Breathnach:



"Let us return to Columbus, Mississippi, in the spring of 1866. The Civil War has been over for a year, yet Union soldiers still occupy the town. The fires of passion and prejudice that had consumed over 500,000 American lives between 1861 and 1865 still smolder in bitterness behind closed doors.



Just outside of Columbus is a cemetary where both Confederate and Union soldiers killed at the Battle of Shiloh are buried. On April 25, 1866, four young women pay a visit to the cemetery to tend the graves of lost loved ones and decorate them with memorial garlands of flowers.



After decorating the Confederate graves, the women walk over to a small plot where forty Union soldiers are buried. Gently they scatter Southern magnolia blossoms on the Northern graves. The news of this unselfish, compassionate gesture spreads quickly and touches everyone. Newspaper editorials praise this act of reconciliation and urge the nation to come together to mourn both the "Blue and the Gray".



Soon in many small towns all over the country, people were gathering at Civil War cemeteries and holding commemorative or "memorial day" services. Afterwards, there would be parades led by a brass band, the volunteer fire-brigade, and a review to honor America's veterans. Following the parade and patriotic orations, there would be a community picnic on the town common.



During the late nineteenth centruy, Decoration Day was a major American holiday and was celebrated with even more fanfare than Independence Day. This was because the Civil War had touched or altered nearly everyone's life.



Ironically, however, even though the country came together in spirit to honor America's war dead, the North and the South still managed to commemorate independently. In 1868, General John A. Logan, commander in Chief of the GAR ("Grand Army of the Republic", a union veterans' organization) designated May 30 as "Memorial Day", while the Daughters of the Confederacy held firm with the term "Decoration Day" and a date of April 26. Today, Memorial Day is recognized as a day honoring all of those who have fought America's wars and is legally observed on the last Monday of May."

We thank each of you who have served, and who are currently serving. We mourn with those who have lost loved ones in America's wars. Please take a moment today to reflect on the sacrifrices still being made by our troops and pray for their safety. The following is a poem that Farmgirl wrote for her daddy commemorating his return from Iraq.

"Army Boots"

I wait in anticipation at the airport.
Swirling, dancing, my memories collide.
Pictures, laughter, and tears are drowned in the remembered thump- thump.
The tramp of Army boots.
I try to reconstruct his face. The smooth, kind face.
The shiny dark hair, the sunny brown eyes.
But over it all I remember the thump-thump.
The tramp of Army boots.
Those irrevocable memories of those big, shiny wonders.
The sound of them thudding grandly through the door.
The tramp of Army boots.
I close my eyes, shut them against the cheerful, careless crowds that push their traveler’s gaiety on a mind in turmoil
And I wish for the thump-thump.
The tramp of Army boots.
The doors open, and streams of civilization pour in.
High heels click and tennis shoes “thwack” unceremoniously.
But I wish for it more than anything.
To hear the tramp of Army boots.
Then I see him. The somber tan among the gay bursts of vivacious color.
I flee, flee from memories into searingly wonderful reality.
My eyes take in the face. Lines criss-cross the hardened jaw.
Gray hairs cover the dark head of my childhood.
His eyes are still brown. But they are sad. Scarred.
My eyes burn with tears, my face burns in an agony of joy.
I take hold of his arm. It is hard. Harder than I ever remembered.
Then those hard, loveless muscles wrap themselves around me with more love than they had ever held before.
The same heart was beating. I could feel it against my pounding head. It was beating for me, for us, for our family.
As we left, he held me still.
And I could hear the same thump-thump.
The tramp of Army boots.


~ to my Daddy, whose heart still beats for me.

Some News and No News....

Welcome, Archie!
Farm Girl received an early birthday gift, and we are all enjoying this wonderful addition to our family! He is a miniature schnauzer puppy, named for Archie Forbes, the hero of GA Henty's book, In Freedom's Cause. (If you are looking for a good "living book" about Wallace and Bruce, we highly recommend this one.)

Training for AB is going well, just painfully slow while we endure his nightly absence. As my brother reminded me when I began to whine last week, at least he's not living in a plywood box being shot at by Iraqis every time he goes to work.... true! So we live quietly out here in this safe haven of contentment while he readjusts to life in the world.

The land has come back to life, and we are in the throes of a beautiful spring. The flowers are in bloom, the herb garden has exploded with new growth, we are eating the first of the wild blackberries, and Farm Boy stands at the hedgerow with his face in the honeysuckle till we pull him out. The country is at it's prettiest at this time of year. The downside is the grass, acres and acres and acres of growing, growing grass.... at least we have a mower! How did they do it in the "old days"?!

We are going verse by verse through the book of Mark at church, and weekly our family gains a deeper understanding of the complex beauty of Christ's character. Each week we move closer to a more biblical, and therefore accurate picture of our Savior. It has surprised me how the culture has quietly warped my view over the years. We are so blessed to be at GfBC.

On the adoption front ~ as the old saying goes, "No news is .... well, NO NEWS!" No, it is not always good news. The process drags on. We wait and hope, but see little progress. Frustration, despair, defeat compete daily for a place in our hearts. There is no shortage of children in China. There is no shortage of waiting, adoptive families. America has purchased this stand-off in large measure with the lives of untold numbers of aborted American babies who could be filling loving homes now. The cost is great in many ways when we go begging at the door of a foreign country, wallets in hand, for a product we cannot, or will not produce on native soil. Our comfort remains in the Lord, who places orphans in families, and will place another in ours in His timing. Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue....


As we approach Mother's Day, we are so thankful to our moms for the sacrifice they each made, giving so much of themselves so that their children would not do without. Thank you, Mom and Mom! We love you. To my children, I am so grateful and thankful to be a mom to you both. Little did I know all those years ago that my joy, my fullfillment, my purpose in life was wrapped up in a word whose real meaning the world would cast aside...."motherhood". To my little one waiting, I hope that by next Mother's Day you will be safe in my arms. To my husband, who has given me life's best gift ~ being your wife, blessed to be provided for so that I can bring up my children for Christ... thank you.

To all who are ready to brave the late spring temperatures, come by and visit. We'll be waiting on the porch with a pitcher of iced tea ....................... At the Farmhouse