Remembrance Day

Esta fecha es muy especial y sentida entre la sociedad Canadiense, desde la semana pasada y en estos días hasta el próximo domingo 11 de noviembre estamos viendo en las calles como mucha gente porta una pequeña flor roja en su ropa, así como todos los comentaristas de noticias o deportivos en la televisión (CBC, Radio Canada, cadenas privadas), igualmente los políticos de todos los partidos.

El primer otoño cuando llegué en 2002 me sorprendió, ya que no conocía esta tradición, me informé y al comprender su significado, desde 2003, todos los años porto con gusto y con respeto esta pequeña flor conocida como POPPY o en Francés COQUELICOT.

El onceavo día, del onceavo mes, a las once horas se conmemora el final de la Primera Guerra Mundial, es cuando se firmó el armisticio de rendición y fin de hostilidades en 1918.

Esta fecha es conmemorada en todo el Commonwealth Británico, no solo en Canada.

Para no olvidar el esfuerzo y sacrificio de cientos de miles de canadienses caídos en combate en ambas guerras mundiales.
El mundo sería MUY diferente si los nazis hubieran ganado.

En Canada hay un enorme respeto por los veteranos de guerra, en algunos lugares son ellos mismos quienes están dando y colocando las flores a la gente en las calles, centros comerciales, estaciones de tren, etc.
Para mí es un momento especial cuando un señor de más de 80 años, sonriente, pero muy formal te coloca en el saco de tu traje esta flor.
En muchos restaurantes y cafeterías (p.ejem Tim Hortons) se puede dejar una cooperación voluntaria para tomar y portar una de estas flores en estos días.

El uso de los poppies como símbolo viene de los campos de batalla en Europa donde florecían y su color rojo es una obvia mención a la sangre de los soldados.

Hay un famoso poema de un canadiense (John McCrae) titulado “In Flanders Fields”, este poema normalmente es enseñado a los niños en las escuelas, existe la versión francesa del mismo.

Incluso en los billetes de 10 dolares está la primera estrofa en ambos idiomas, unas flores y la leyenda:

N’oublions jamais – Lest we forget

Existen diferentes versiones que son respuestas al poema de McRae, aquí copio un par de ellas, la segunda es larga pero en lo personal me gusta mucho y me invade un sentimiento de tristeza al leerlo.

We Shall Keep the Faith, Moina Michael (1918)
Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet — to rise anew!
We caught the torch you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All who died.

We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.

And now the Torch and Poppy Red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In Flanders Fields.


Why Wear a Poppy, Donald J. Crawford
Please wear a poppy," the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.

A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
When she's pinned it on he turned to say,
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"

The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free —
That's why we wear a poppy, you see.

"I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
and became a man — as you will, too.

"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.

"But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

"Till at last, at last, the war was won —
And that's why we wear a poppy son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son — did he come back all right?"

A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
She shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Thought our freedom was bought — and thousands paid!

And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne,
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember — and give!

Nota.- El nombre en español de Poppie es AMAPOLA.

Enlace con mayor informacion:
Day of Remembrance – Veterans Affairs Canada