In trying to clean out the VAST accumulation of papers in my office, I keep turning up bits and pieces from past speeches, clippings I have saved, and poems I kept. Goodness knows how old this is BUT the words are so important as we approach a weekend of remembering. He prayed—it wasn’t my religion. He ate—it wasn’t what I ate. He spoke—it wasn’t my language. He dressed—it wasn’t what I wore. He took my hand—it wasn’t the color of mine. But when he laughed—it was how I laughed, and when he cried—it was how I cried. “Underneath We’re all the Same” by Amy Maddox, 16 Franklin Community High School, Bargersville, Ind. We remember those who fought and died for us. And we also must continue to seek ways to bring justice and peace in the world so the remembrances become fewer in number rather than greater.
Eileen McDargh
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