Remembering
We Have a Lot to Be Thankful for
Tomorrow is Remembrance Day. We set aside at least two minutes every year on this special day to honour and remember those who fought and died for our freedom.
Not to take anything away from this solemn day, but sometimes we forget the other heroes in our lives. The policeman who protects us daily. The firefighter who risked his life to get us out of burning buildings. The paramedic who keeps us alive until we can reach a facility better equipped to save our lives.
The veterans deserve their own special day. But in the vein of remembering all our hometown heroes, I submit the following:
Daddy's Poem
Her hair was up in a pony tail, her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees a dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called a student from the class.
To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching, a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?" she heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one," another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique.
"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him, I w anted you to know.
All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories he taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him. I'm not standing here alone.
"Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart,
I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart"
With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her, doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far.
You see he was a policeman and died just this past year,
When airplanes hit the towers and taught Americans to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away."
And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day.
And to her mothers amazement, she witnessed with surprise,
A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy," to the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.
And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far.
Published by Youranter
I'm just a working stiff with opinions who would like to share them. View profile
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9 Comments
Post a CommentThese are facts. I've already contacted AC. Your statement, on the other hand, is opinion since you have no idea who I am. Thanks for the refreshing dose of stereotype though..You sound like a very thoughtful, nice person, who happens to be just another faceless recruit.
Ms Freeman, all you seem to be interested in is the author's permission on the poem and not what the blog is all about. 'Remembrance Day'. Remembering the men and women who fought for their country and a lot who lost their lives for our freedom. One being the freedom of speech. Youranter stated his sister sent the poem to him and he did not know who the author was. You have stated who the author is and I'm sure she'd be pleased it has been added to a Remembrance Day theme.
I must take it that you cannot read or understand what Youranter writes, otherwise you would not make the stupid comments you do.
There again I can understand that from your picture. Are you the Paris Hilton of AC? You are so interested in quotes, here's one from me, "Another blonde bimbo". Please make sure I get the proper credit.
How thick are you? I told you twice I didn't know who wrote it. I apologized. I give full credit to the author. You're on about quotation marks now instead of spelling. Congratulations. You're moving up in the world. As for plagiarism, I am well aware of it. A lot of my work has been used by others too. Get me the phone number to Ms Costello-Forshey and I will call her to apologize. Will that make you happy?
You don't need to pretend, you need to put it in quotes, very little research is required to offer the original author the credit she requires for the poem. Again, this isn't up for debate, you can delete my comments if you want, but it's pointless to try and convince me, or defend anything. I just wanted to give you a heads up about copying other author's work. I am assuming you just don't know that the same rules apply to the internet regarding plagiarism.
As I said, I got it from my sister. She didn't know where it came from either, as she got it in an e-mail. I thought it was too good not to publish and now that you've pointed out where it comes from, I give full credit to the original author. I never pretended it came from me. As for the National Post, I don't have time to read it. I'll grnat you that I may take a sentence here and there, but as you know, not all articles are attributed to a particular author. And I hardly think any comments I make are 'slanderous'.
(cont'd)This isn't up for debate, I've resisted calling you out on the other numerous articles that I've noticed this on, but this complete copy without even attempting to quote at all, while misleading your readers into thinking you wrote it, it's gone too far.
No it's not public property. The author of this poem states that she needs written request, and you need written approval to publish it. You have taken full paragraphs and sentences from articles out of "National Post" (part of the canda.com network, as the site says.) Not to mention just a basic recreation of these articles (ideas) while only adding small sladerous remarks/opinions in between for a few of your recent "articles." I'm sure you just don't know how serious it is to steal another author's words...But even over the internet this is considered plagiarism. You should check out AC's terms of use for more info about this particular venue. It's misrepresenting the source you got the info from, and it's absolutely not giving credit to the authors who originally wrote it. You can quote, cite or utilize any resource you want, but you have to give that resource credit. This isn't up for debate, I've resisted calling you out on the other numerous articles that I've noticed this on, b
I didn't know where it came from. My sister sent it to me in an e-mail, so I imagine it is pretty much public property now. However, I do appreciate you pointing it out to me. I give full crdit to Ms Costello-Forshey. As for the comment that I can't keep copying other's work, where does that come from? What have I copied?
You can't keep copying other's work without quoting or getting consent. This poem was written by Cheryl Costello-Forshey. She REQUIRES written consent to reproduce it, use it, publish it, and of course recognition when it is reproduced. If anyone would like to view the original, so the author can get some credit for their work please visit http://www.dadsindistress.asn.au/.