May is the month when families come together for the Memorial Day weekend. I shall never forget the memorial service I once attended in a cemetery. And as I stood at the grave of a veteran who had given his life for his country, this poem was read over the loudspeaker, and I would like to share it with you in this week's Warm Thoughts column.

Come Visit My Grave. I am a veteran laid under the sod. I'm in good company, I'm up here with God. Come to my grave and visit with me, I gave my life so you be free. Today is Memorial Day throughout this great land, there's avenues of flags, parades, and bands. I can hear the music, the firing squad, and taps. Here come my comrades, the Legionnaires, the Blue Caps - one of them just put a flag by my stone. Someday he will have a flag by his own. Some think of this day as just a day free from toil, while others are busy working the soil. They say they have plans other things to do, don't put us aside as you would an old shoe. Come visit my grave in this cemetery so clean. This is what Memorial Day means! There are many of us lying in wakeless sleep in cemeteries of green and oceans of deep. It's sad that for many who fought so brave, now no one comes to visit their grave. They died so you can have one whole year free. Now can't you save this one day for me? There are soldiers, sailors, airmen up here who went into battle despite of their fear. I've been talking up here to all of those men, if they had to do over they'd do it again. Look, someone is coming to visit my grave. It's my family - for them, my life I gave. My wife, I remember our last embrace as I left the tears streamed down your face. I think you knew the day I shipped out. I wouldn't return your life'd to be turned out. There's my daughter that I used to hold. Can it be that you're nearly 20 years old? Next month is to be your wedding day, I wish I could be there to give you away. My son's here too, Dad's little man. Always love your country, do for what you can. There is one thing that really did bother - is seeing you grow up without the aid of a father. I wish you could all hear me from up above, that a father's best gift to his children is love. And what better way to prove my love to the end - Is that man lay down his life for his friends. I see it's time for you to go home. Your visit made it easier to remain here alone. Don't cry honey. You look so sad. Our children are free. You should be glad. Daughter. Thanks for the bouquet, so cute. Thank you son, for that sharp salute. Come again. I forgot you can't hear me from up here but I know you'll come visit me next year. I hope all veterans are treated this way. On this day to remember, Memorial Day. Author unknown.

Love your country. God bless America!

Warm Thoughts from the Little Home on the Prairie Over a Cup of Tea by Luetta G Werner

Published in the Marion Record May 29th, 1997

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Till next time,

Trina