Friday, May 26, 2006
My mother told me a story today and I am proud it is my heritage. She said,
"When I was little Memorial Day was know as Decoration day. Every decoration day we would get up early and pick all the flowers in our yard. (just as an aside, my grandmother was a master gardener, so you can imagine) Then we would go to Aunt Effie's house and pick all the flowers in her yard. Then we would go to Aunt Ethel's house and pick all the flowers in her yard. By then it was all that we could haul and we would spend the day decorating graves."
When flow'ry Summer is at hand,
And Spring has gemm'd the earth with bloom,
We hither bring, with loving hand,
Bright flow'rs to deck our soldier's tomb.
Gentle birds above are sweetly singing
O'er the graves of heroes brave and true;
While the sweetest flow'rs we are bringing,
Wreath'd in garlands of red, white and blue.
With snowy hawthorn, clusters white,
Fair violets of heav'nly blue,
And early roses, fresh and bright,
We wreathe the red, and white, and blue.
"Soldier's Memorial Day," words by Mary B.C. Slade