Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream
I’m no lover of Enlightenment philosophy. I do not believe in the inherent goodness of Man. Men do what they believe is good, and through the Grace of God men do good and those good works should be remembered, especially when a man looses his life in the process.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day, and although I’d like to say that my dream was like the one in the song, Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream, (Really I’d like to say that that had come true.) but it was not. It was a dream of poppies, poppies everywhere. It was a marvelous sight: People were wearing poppies of remembrance and giving thanks to God for the men and women who’d given their lives in military service. I was excited and hopeful when I awoke. I remembered that last Memorial Day I wrote that there were people wearing poppies at the parade in Inwood. However, when I went out today I couldn’t find a single person with a poppy on his breast in anticipation of tomorrow’s remembrance. I couldn’t find a single person selling poppies on the street corners or in the subway, in front of church or at the mall.
I would hope that people stop and take a moment at three o’clock, as President Clinton ordered in 2000. Put down the cold beer; set aside the hotdog and coleslaw. Go to a Memorial Day parade, or wreath laying. Clean and tend the grave of a fallen soldier. Seek out and buy a poppy from an American Legion volunteer. Say a prayer in honor of those who lost their lives fighting in wars: a prayer of thanksgiving for their bravery, for their commitment, for their sacrifice giving thanks to the Father Son and Holy Ghost.
That reminds me… I’d be as remiss as the man in the comic if I concentrated solely on the secular holiday coming tomorrow and did not remember that today is Trinity Sunday. I certainly cannot let the day go past without this: Quicunque vult