I remember when my first grade teacher called it Armistice Day. She explained why, that the fighting in the First World War had ended at this time. At 11 AM she asked us to be silent and to remember that soldiers had died. Along with my classmates, I closed my eyes. My child's imagination showed me scenes of war and loss. When we opened our eyes I saw my teacher looking at me with concern and I realized that I had been crying.
Every year since that time I have taken a few minutes at eleven in the morning on the eleventh day of the eleventh month to remember those who have died in wars and those who served. Reading and research and personal stories have expanded my knowledge but have not altered the intensity I felt on that day in my childhood. I always hope, as I did then, that some day there will be no war. I hope and I remember.
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