Lest We Forget

In Flanders Fields

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Being an army brat, I have attended many, many Remembrance Sunday Parades in several countries on various camps. My father was always on parade. I am always struck by that two minute silence because no matter what or where, the traffic and throngs always come comes to a complete standstill. The eeriness, especially on a cold, English November morning, makes it always seems to me, that the entire world has stopped.

Old soldiers never die
They simply fade they say
Is that the price I ask myself
That soldiers have to pay?

Bugle notes and drum beat
Flash of sun on brass
He hears the call as comrades all
Tramp the long march past

Warriors fading quickly
Like a weak pale winter sun
Bowed and creeping slowly
Life's race is all but run

The red poppy leaves are wrinkled
One by one they fall
Soldier, can you answer still
When the bugle notes do call

Play the music gently
No harsh notes sound, I ask
For the poppy leaves are falling
Glory days now past

LONDON, UK THIS MORNING - 7 NOVEMBER 2010

In memory: The Queen lays a wreath at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Sunday

The Cenotaph in London's Whitehall where thousands of veterans marched past the memorial

Let us never forget
and
let us educate our children so that they know never to forget

From My Perch

Mag # 39   

Just when I thought things had settled down, once again they've rounded up all my birds!

And now here comes the truck. The truck onto which my beauties will be loaded.  I can see out of the corner of my eye that four have escaped and are trying to get back to me. Just look at them running amok - talk about headless chicken syndrome! 

Amid much squawking and clucking they're all finally on the truck, crammed together in those horrible wire cages. I can't look. I can hear the truck pulling out of the yard and as always, the noise is deafening.  But that will recede as the truck disappears into the distance.

I suppose the next time I see a red and white striped bucket with a white bearded, happy man decorating the side being delivered to the big house, it could contain a part of one of my chicks. Imagine that -  a past chick's leg and thigh or breast even, being served up in a bucket with sides of French fries, cole slaw and a biscuit.  She may even be hotter and  spicier than when she was with me!

So as I sit on my perch thinking about the next batch of young chicks that will soon join me in my coop I have to say that although such a varied love life sounds exciting, it does become tiresome after a while. After all, this old rooster ain't getting any younger.

I do wish I hadn't been hatched in Kentucky!

Barbara M Lake 2010

Divali - Festival of Lights

Tomorrow, Friday 5 November is the Hindu Festival of Divali otherwise known as the Festival of Lights which celebrates light over dark, good over evil.

Divali was first brought to Trinidad by Hindu indentured labourers in 1845 and is a five day festival. The word Divali itself means "row of lights" During the festival homes are completely cleaned and windows are opened to welcome Lakshmi , the goddess of wealth. Lamps are lit as a greeting to Lakshmi, gifts are given and festive meals are prepared.

The climax of Divali is the lighting of deyas after sundown - a delightful experience that should never be missed. In yards, open spaces, staircases, roundabouts and porches, deyas are lit by the thousands.

They are also placed on bamboo stalks bent into fantastic shapes and designs. In villages where there is a strong Hindu presence it is common to see whole streets decorated in this manner.

Bamboo bending is an absolute art in itself and it takes hours to produce the beautiful designs.  The men normally work in teams to create the centre pieces for the festival.  In today's Trinidad Guardian newspaper according to one team leader, Boodram “Gable” Bissoondial, "one of the first things is to start with the end in mind."  Meaning what you want the product to look like when completed.

Bamboo is not just bamboo. One has to choose the bamboo very carefully. For “road way” bamboo designs (bamboo lengths running parallel to each other placed on short stubs), Gable noted that you need to choose long lengths of bamboo that are not very wide in width. He said, "for bamboo that would form “rose designs,” you need to consider width more than length, since you have to split that type of bamboo into eight pieces.

Safety is of major importance when bamboo bending. According to Gable, there is no need for "fancy-fancy" (local expression) tools, just the need for rolls of wire and two-and-a-half inch nails, with hammer in hand. The pieces of bamboo must be tacked down to ensure they don't fall out causing harm to anyone and the edges of the bamboo have to be shaved so that no one can be scratched. Unshaven bamboo can be painful!

The following is taken from Worldpress.org and written by Dr. Kumar Mahabir (October 14, 2009)

Divali is the defining event that marks Trinidad as a multi-religious, multi-ethnic society with Hindus comprising the second largest religious group (24 percent) after Roman Catholics in the twin-island population of 1.3 million people. While Divali is essentially a Hindu festival, people of all faiths actively join in celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance, and good over evil. Non-Hindu adherents are attracted to the festival's universal message as well as to the extravaganza that is not only unique but also provides a clean environment for the cultivation of a healthy body, mind and soul.
Nowhere else in the world do non-Hindus and non-Indians actively take part in the lighting of over 10 million deyas on a single night in the year. These tiny clay lamps are lit in homes, yards, streets, offices, public parks and playing fields. It is perhaps only in Trinidad that one can find split bamboo tubes transformed into magnificent works of art on which the deyas are placed. The split bamboo strips reach out toward neighboring houses, streets and communities to symbolize the popular local mantra "all ah we is one."

To all my Hindu friends and all who will be celebrating, Shubh Divali

All Souls and A Birthday

All Soul's Day is a Roman Catholic day of remembrance for friends and loved ones who have passed away.  It is celebrated on 2 November, or if it falls on a Sunday. on the 3 November.  The Office of the Dead must be recited by the clergy at all Masses and those Masses are to be Requiem. 

The theological basis for the feast is the doctrine that  those souls which leave the body not perfectly cleansed, or have not fully atoned for past sins cannot yet see God.  Those left on earth can apparently help these souls by praying for them, giving alms and offering Masses which will help in their release from Purgatory.

There are many customs and rituals followed in various countries. In Trinidad, the cemeteries and grave yards are cleaned up in the days leading up to All Souls.  Relatives normally visit the family graves on the 1 November (All Saints) to pimp and preen for the following day.


Today many families will go to their family plots or single plots, gather round and even bring picnic baskets.  Tonight every non-forgotten grave will be lit up by candles so that the cemetery will just, for one night of the year, be bathed in candle light.  It would be nice to think that the visitors will put candles on the forgotten graves as well.  I think it's as well to remember that not all graves that appear to be  'forgotten', actually are.  Circumstances don't always allow for people to visit.


I like the customs of some European countries where a candle is burning at the grave continuously as it was for my Austrian grandmother. Sadly there is no one left to burn the candle but I know the cemetery keepers do tend to keep the flame alight.  Then there are the countries where the grave has a photo of the deceased with the burning candle.


It would seem that this day of remembrance comes from the ancient Pagan Festival of the Dead.  The Pagan belief is that the souls of the dead return for a meal with the family (hence the picnic baskets??)  Candles in the window would guide the souls back home and another place was set at the table.  Children would come through the village asking for food to be offered symbolically to the dead, then donated to feed the hungry.

The Christian  origins of the day have been attributed to various religious orders - some say the Cluny Order, others the Benedictines.  If it was started by St Odilo of Cluny  at the Cluny Abbey in France, the tradition is 1012 years old.  Other monasteries throughout France adopted  the tradition and it quickly spread throughout the western church.  It was only in the 14th century that this day was officially recognized by Rome.

So when I go home this evening I will light candles by the photos of my parents.  I do this on birthdays, anniversaries and sometimes just on any day that I feel like it.

And when we have said a prayer and blown out the candle, we will light the candles on my husband's birthday cake and give thanks for his life as he goes rushing into another decade with guns blazing.  He  thinks he's still twenty!!!

Happy Halloween Fiends.

Tell My Story

Magpie Tales #38

I knew that your grave was here somewhere.  The parish records showed the dates of your birth, baptism and death.   Carefully recorded by whoever kept the records at the time. Whoever did, had a neat hand which suggests an educated person. Maybe the sexton, maybe the minister.  Definitely not a woman.  Someone who knew you. Someone who knew the family.  How did the recorder feel when he wrote the words ‘date of death’ in the parish records?  Reason for death remains blank. Strange that!

When the family bible was returned to me (after much searching and incessantly nagging at relatives) I flicked through it just happy that it was back with who I considered to be its rightful owner – me.  After all, my paternal grandfather had inherited it and my grandmother had ensured that all the family births, baptisms, confirmations, marriages and deaths were recorded.

 I first heard of the family bible from my father when I was quite young.  He only knew that it had been in the family home and that his mother was the person responsible for it.  When she died, my father was serving abroad and by the time he reached England, relatives had ‘ransacked’ the house.  It wasn’t until a while later that my father (an only child) realized that the family bible was missing.  When he finally found out who had it, the person – his cousin – refused to return it.  He didn’t really want it. He just didn’t want my father to have it.

After my father died, I decided to pursue the family bible.  I wanted, thirsted for family history.  I wanted to know about my ancestors. I knew that my paternal grandmother was Irish.  I knew something of my English grandfather’s (he was one of fourteen of which eleven survived) family – one of his brothers threw something at the school teacher and promptly ran off to sea – last heard of in the United States of America!) Anyway cut a long story short, I now have the family bible which dates back to 1820. It was kept religiously until the year my grandmother died in 1948.  I was the last but one to be entered. She never recorded her brother in law’s death.  She got up from her sick bed to go to his funeral and three weeks later, died of pneumonia.

I fell ill and tired of Face Book, Blogger and Multiply,  went through my bookshelf. I found the family bible that I had sought for so many years and then just put on a shelf to gather dust. I began to read and the more I read, the more my interest was piqued.  Family trees are fascinating. Who married who, who was born when, who died when but never a mention of divorce. I was told many years later that my divorce was a first for the family. Would that have been recorded had the family bible still been active? No mention of Great Aunt Dorothy  – family lore has it that this southerner bewitched and snared Great Uncle Edward. It was only at the wedding that she introduced her fourteen year old son to the family by which time it was too late. 

After much searching I am here standing at the foot of your grave.  Why am I here? Why do I have such an interest in you?  Why you above all others between 1858 and 1948? Ninety years of family history and I chose you. Actually, I didn’t.  You chose me, a descendant on my father’s side.  It was only when I read the family bible that things began to fall into place.   The recurring dreams I’ve had since I was four years old. Dreams of a child. A very young child.  Dreams of a young woman watching the child. Dreams of a man watching the young woman.  Dreams of the same man holding the young woman.  Dreams of a woman crying. Dreams of the man berating the crying woman.  And then the awful indescribable dream of the young woman putting a pillow over the child’s face.  The dream of a funeral in which the headstone is already cracked. Grieving man, crying woman. The people of dreams past.  The parents. And nearby stands the young woman watching and waiting to console.

I know your story little one but what can I do about it now?  I cannot ask the scribe in the church what he thought.  I cannot ask your mother if she suspected your father’s affair with your nanny?  I cannot ask your nanny why.  What I can do little one, is tell that your father’s death is recorded in the parish records by the same educated hand and in the family bible probably by your maternal grandmother’s delicate hand.   Cause of death? Suicide.

Rest in peace little one. Come to me in dreams no more. I have told your story.

Barbara M Lake
October 2010

Trinidad Final Rally of the Year

Last Saturday saw the final Rally for the year in Trinidad and Tobago.  My heart is forever in my mouth as Rallying is fast and my son is the co driver/navigator on the two man team.

Driver and navigator as a team are this year's 'rookies' and have given the long timers a run for their money.  Since starting a few months ago they have rallied with internationals in Barbados, Tobago and here in Trinidad.  The first time they rallied, it was an international and they placed third in their category and seventh overall from 40 plus entrants.

The final saw them placing third in their category and fourth overall for the year.  There is a slight dispute as the reigning local champion and showman should have been penalized as he broke a rule which normally carries disqualification but that seems to have been overlooked!


This team has resigned itself, unfair though it is, to the fact.


Next year, next year!