I noticed the elderly man holding his poppies as I exited the store. I remember my mom giving me money for poppies when I was a child, and so I always stop when I see someone standing with the bright red flowers. I asked the gentleman how much a poppy cost. “Whatever donation you would like to give,” he answered. I exchanged a couple of dollars for a poppy and rushed to my vehicle.
As I hurried away, I thought about how small my offering was in comparison to what the poppy symbolized. I wanted to go back not only to make a larger donation but also to ask the veteran to share his story. Sadly, I did not turn around because I had somewhere I needed to be. I figured I would make another contribution to the next veteran I saw and would ask for his story, but I never got another chance.
The poem “In Flanders Fields” was written by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD during World War 1. He had seen too much suffering, and one of his close friends was killed in battle on May 2, 1915. McCrae performed his young friend’s funeral that same day and is said to have written the poem the next as he looked at all of the wild poppies growing in the ditches of the cemetery:
“In Flanders Fields” by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
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.
In 1920, the American Legion adopted the red poppy as their official flower in memory of those who fought and died in the war. In 1924, they began the poppy program to raise funds to help with medical and financial needs of both veterans and active duty military personnel and their families. Nearly 100 years later, we still see the poppies for sale, especially close to Memorial Day.
I wish I had given a bigger contribution that day. Though my donation was small, I still received a poppy to remind me of those who shed their blood. They sacrificed their lives for the freedom of others, many of whom they did not know, many of whom did not deserve it. Some of the recipients did not appreciate it, and some still take freedom for granted.
I regret that I didn’t go back to learn of the elderly man’s story and to thank him for his service. I was in too much of a hurry. I had other things I need to take care of. I will probably never see him again, but I will not forget our brief encounter and the convictions that it brought.
I am humbled as I remember not only those who died serving our country so that we can live in freedom today. I am also humbled as I remember Jesus who died in my place so that I can experience freedom from the penalty of sin and death forever. When we accept Jesus’ death as payment for our sin and in turn submit to him, we are filled with the Holy Spirit. As we surrender our will for his, we are filled with his power to overcome sin and death. We are free from Satan’s grasp and saved for eternity.
I owe Jesus so much. And though I offer him so little in comparison to what he has done for me, he still washes me with his blood and covers me with his grace. I often pray that I not take his sacrifice for granted but that I would truly lay down my life for him just as he did for me.
If Jesus has been reaching out to you, but you have never accepted his gift of salvation, do not delay. Don’t get so busy with other things that you don’t have time for him. The day will come when you will not get another chance.
“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jesus, John 15:13). Let us not forget those who laid down their lives for our freedom. Most of all, let us not forget the one who died in our place so that we could have freedom from sin and death and live eternally in heaven with him. Oh, how he loves us. There is no greater love.