At 11:11 am, although at work, I stopped to remember those who gave their all for my freedom. On my drive home, a CBC radio segment on Passchendaele ridge was on.
This was of interest to me, as my Grandfather was grievously wounded in this battle. Miraculously, he survived and lived to tell any and everyone that God had heard his calling out from no-mans land and saved him. He believed that his duty to God was to become a Preacher and glorify God all the rest of his days. Somewhere in my home is a copy of the "tract" my Grandfather printed about his experiences. It was called "A Soldier in Flanders." One day I should transcribe it here to my blog.
My Grandfather was what they called a Shantyman. He picked up his wife and 5 kids and moved where the Lord called him. In the dirty 30's my poor Grandmother moved an astounding 23 times. I never met my Grandfather, but many many people told me he was a very charismatic gentleman possessed of an iron will and an ability to stay active every minute of every day. Since he did not condone radio, television or cards this involved human interaction. He was a well-loved man from all accounts.
After hearing a harrowing account of what conditions during that battle my Grandfather lived through, I felt very blessed indeed to ever have been conceived. Amazing really.
