Today is ANZAC day. Here in New Zealand and in Australia, it is a day we specifically remember the New Zealanders and Australians killed in war, and also honour returned servicemen and women.
The date marks the anniversary of the landing of New Zealand and
Australian soldiers – the Anzacs – on the Gallipoli Peninsula in 1915.
My father was too young to serve during the Second World War, but he remembered being evacuated to Devon as a young child. His mother died when he was four, and I can only imagine how he must have felt losing his mother at such a young age, and then being parted from his father and family, and also how his father must have felt.
Today there were ceremonies, large and small, around the country to commemorate ANZAC day. In our quiet area there was a lovely ceremony at the memorial in the park by the beach.
I stood in sunshine and looked out over the beach and calm sea, and thought how lucky I am to live at this time and in this place.
In our busy world we have too few moments to be still, to enjoy what is around, and to be grateful. We should treasure each of those moments.
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