It felt strange coming in to school this week without the usual box of poppies for sale and the posters the RSL distribute for Remembrance Day. However, in true Heathdale style our children and staff were not perturbed. Praise God we had a stash of poppies we were given last year by the RSL and, as we usually do, have decorated the front office to remind ourselves how blessed we are. The children have been supported by their homeroom teachers and Mrs. Rossouw and have made poppies with pipe cleaners and card to adorn our walkways. Because of the knock-on effects of COVID, red cardboard has been impossible to purchase and so some of them are orange. Just as we will be feeling the effects of 2020 for a long time, so too we feel the effects of the tragedy of war. We have emerged from both stronger, wiser and more determined.
This Wednesday we celebrated Remembrance Day with as much passion as always, just in a different format. We desire our students to know, respect and understand the atrocities of war and the privileged life we lead as a result of men and women giving their lives for their country. At 11am on Wednesday we streamed an event led by Executive Principal Grace and our Captains across both campuses. Our Melton captains did a marvellous job reciting the In Flanders Field poem. We heard the Ode, prayed and listened to the Last Post and the Rouse. Wreaths were also laid on both campuses and a minute of silence observed. Despite being thwarted in selling poppies we still remember and give thanks for all who have served in the Defence of our Nation as soldiers, sailors and members of the Air Force.
If you were able to watch the live event, I hope it gave you hope for a better Christ-filled future.
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.