Happy Birthday Dad Golden

Today is Dad Golden's birthday and I really have been trying hard to make him his birthday post but I am finding it such a hard time, looking through old pictures of our family history.
He has been such a good husband to Mom Golden and such a great dad to his nine children and such a kind friend to many.
Why I am having such a difficult time is that Dad Golden says he doesn't believe in God and when I look at all of those pictures, of happier days, I am just wishing that he would accept the Lord
Oh, I know he DOES believe in God, though but if he does, he is believing that his good works will earn him a place in heaven ,but if that were so, why did God send His only Son the Lord Jesus to die for us sinners?
This is the birthday greeting that I put into the paper for my dear father.
This, we have been doing for several years for both of my parents..for their birthdays.for Fathers Day, Mothers Day and two for the price of one..their anniversary!
Dad Golden phoned me at seven this morning as he does every day and I sang Happy Birthday to him.
He said he liked the picture but he didn't say anything about the verse.
At least he wasn't angry!

I will try and post some pix and a little history of Dad Golden later.
In the mean time I will just say that when I read the lyrics of my Felisol's dad's favourite song, I decided that it would be just great for Dad Golden to read.
I did change a few of the words...........Love Terry

PS..This picture is from about 50 years ago when Dad Golden was serving as a fireman in the RCAF in Trenton. Ontario.

PS..Felisol told me that Dad Golden is her prayer child and Dad Golden knows this..

If Mom and Dad Golden had a computer, I would have Dad listen to this song by my favourite singer, Jake Hess.

Ruby Tuesday Remembrance Day

http://workofthepoet.blogspot.com



Today is a special day for two reasons.
Not only is it our Teach's Ruby Tuesday, but it is also Remembrance Day in Canada.
Canada has ten provinces; British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Prince Edward Island.
We also have three territories; The Yukon Territory, The Northwest Territories,and Nunavut.
Dad Golden gave me a pile of Canadian special Remembrance Day quarters, and I have placed these ruby "pieces of eight" around my poppy.
There are 13 quarters, representing the ten provinces and the three territories.
We Canadians will be remembering our war heroes today.


Bernie and I met this retired soldier at the super market where he was selling poppies and when I spotted all of the medals he was wearing, I asked him if I could take his picture.
I am always asking people I don't even know if I can photograph them.
I don't know what ever I would do if somebody one day tells me, "No"!
Anyways Mr. Gary T. let me take a couple of pictures.
When I got home I googled for a nice background picture to put the gentleman into.
I made a picture pack for him of 8 by 10's, 5 by 7's, 4 by 6's and several wallet sized pictures that he could give to his family and friends. When Bernie and I took this gift to him, I shook his white-gloved hand and thanked him for fighting for our freedom. He seemed very pleased.
Ha! though, eh? I never did tell him that I had Ruby Tuesdayed him!



This announcement was in our local paper yesterday and I think that it is a heartwarming message for us to follow.


In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

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.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

McCrae's "In Flanders Fields" remains to this day one of the most memorable war poems ever written. It is a lasting legacy of the terrible battle in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1915. Here is the story of the making of that poem:
Although he had been a doctor for years and had served in the South African War, it was impossible to get used to the suffering, the screams, and the blood here, and Major John McCrae had seen and heard enough in his dressing station to last him a lifetime.

As a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, Major McCrae, who had joined the McGill faculty in 1900 after graduating from the University of Toronto, had spent seventeen days treating injured men -- Canadians, British, Indians, French, and Germans -- in the Ypres salient.

It had been an ordeal that he had hardly thought possible. McCrae later wrote of it:

"I wish I could embody on paper some of the varied sensations of that seventeen days... Seventeen days of Hades! At the end of the first day if anyone had told us we had to spend seventeen days there, we would have folded our hands and said it could not have been done."

One death particularly affected McCrae. A young friend and former student, Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, had been killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later that day in the little cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station, and McCrae had performed the funeral ceremony in the absence of the chaplain.

The next day, sitting on the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the Canal de l'Yser, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. The major was no stranger to writing, having authored several medical texts besides dabbling in poetry.

In the nearby cemetery, McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious rest time scribbling fifteen lines of verse in a notebook.

A young soldier watched him write it. Cyril Allinson, a twenty-two year old sergeant-major, was delivering mail that day when he spotted McCrae. The major looked up as Allinson approached, then went on writing while the sergeant-major stood there quietly. "His face was very tired but calm as we wrote," Allinson recalled. "He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer's grave."

When McCrae finished five minutes later, he took his mail from Allinson and, without saying a word, handed his pad to the young NCO. Allinson was moved by what he read:

"The poem was exactly an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene."

In fact, it was very nearly not published. Dissatisfied with it, McCrae tossed the poem away, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England. The Spectator, in London, rejected it, but Punch published it on 8 December 1915.

For Felisol

Love divine, so great and wondrous,
Deep and mighty, pure, sublime!
Coming from the heart of Jesus,
Just the same through tests of time.

He the pearly gates will open,
So that I may enter in;
For He purchased my redemption
And forgave me all my sin.

Like a dove when hunted, frightened,
As a wounded fawn was I;
Brokenhearted, yet He healed me,
He will heed the sinner’s cry.

He the pearly gates will open,
So that I may enter in;
For He purchased my redemption
And forgave me all my sin.

Love divine, so great and wondrous,
All my sins He then forgave!
I will sing His praise forever,
For His blood, His power to save.

He the pearly gates will open,
So that I may enter in;
For He purchased my redemption
And forgave me all my sin.

In life’s eventide, at twilight,
At His door I’ll knock and wait;
By the precious love of Jesus
I shall enter Heaven’s gate.

He the pearly gates will open,
So that I may enter in;
For He purchased my redemption



This is the hymn that was sung at Felisol's Dad's funeral last year.
I thought that she would like this.....Love from Terry