The Inquisitive Mind of a Child

The Inquisitive Mind of a Child

Why are they selling poppies, Mummy?
Selling poppies in town today.
The poppies, child, are flowers of love.
For the men who marched away.

But why have they chosen a poppy, Mummy?

Why not a beautiful rose?
Because my child, men fought and died
In the fields where the poppies grow.

But why are the poppies so red, Mummy?
Why are the poppies so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child.
The blood that our soldiers shed.

The heart of the poppy is black, Mummy.
Why does it have to be black?
Black, my child, is the symbol of grief.
For the men who never came back.

But why, Mummy are you crying so?
Your tears are giving you pain.
My tears are my fears for you my child.
For the world is forgetting again.

Author Unknown

The Rm18 children are always asking to see my son William so here are a few pictures from our family Anzac Day commemorations. 

My son is three and a half and had a million questions about war and peace, death, the soldiers and the poppies and it made me think of this poignant poem.

For me, the most precious part of this years Anzac Day was, as many others noted, that as the years pass, the number of returned soldier grows less and less but the number of children paying their respects increases.

William's father pins on his first poppy

William walks with his Daddy who wears his service medals from 10 years with the NZ Army which included overseas peace operations.

For my own part, I have been so impressed with the sensitive and respectful way the children in Rm18 have approached our learning about the Anzacs and New Zealand's role in WW1. They are full of questions which they ask with tact and they have been so sympathetic when discussing the hardships our young New Zealand men suffered during the Gallipoli campaign.
Thank you, Rm18; your maturity and compassion has really impressed me.