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Memorial Day is a day to honor the men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, Memorial Day started out in 1868 as “Decoration Day” and was observed on May 30. It is believed that date was chosen because flowers would be in bloom all over the country,” according to the website, VA.gov
Pilates of Pasadena staff thank all of our military personnel and veterans for their service to our country.
A copy of the poem can be found at the end of this blog.
In Flander’s Field
By Lt. Col. John McCrae, 1915
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
Memorial Day is a day to honor the men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, Memorial Day started out in 1868 as “Decoration Day” and was observed on May 30. It is believed that date was chosen because flowers would be in bloom all over the country,” according to the website, VA.gov
Pilates of Pasadena staff thank all of our military personnel and veterans for their service to our country.
A copy of the poem can be found at the end of this blog.
In Flander’s Field
By Lt. Col. John McCrae, 1915
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
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