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Old as dirt. Twice as gritty.

A million blooms of thanks
by Jo Slade - Story: 67040
Nov 10, 2011 / 5:00 am

 
Remembrance Day is the day when we offer our two minutes of silence to honour those who fought to defend our freedom, a freedom that allows us to make such a gesture of gratitude. And in that silence, are voices from the past. 
 
There are a thousand stories behind another gesture of gratitude, one made over 65 years ago when Canada first received tulips in bloom from Holland in appreciation for the valour of WW II Canadian soldiers who liberated their people. 
 
And the Dutch have never forgotten. Each year, Canadians receive a fresh gift of 10,000 tulip bulbs from Holland for the National Tulip Festival, a spring festival of floral beauty mixed with memories of a day of recaptured freedom, the colour and beauty of the flowers offering a stark contrast to the dark final days of WW II. It seems especially appropriate that tulips are considered to represent all things peaceful, for peace is what was finally restored in Holland on the 5th of May, in 1945. 
 
The veterans of that war still recall the horror of the final nine-month campaign in Holland near the end of the war, it was a grim time known as ‘Hunger Winter’, when thousands of Dutch people died from starvation and cold, and more than 7000 Canadian lives were lost in battle. 
 
After liberation, when relief supplies were brought to Holland along with freedom, the joyous time became known as the ‘Canadian Summer’, and the friendships, gratitude and celebrations that followed helped to cement an powerful bond between the people of Holland and the people of Canada.
 
We in Canada have been shaped by the sense of purpose we had in WW II, and the fight in the Netherlands is a mark of our Canadian courage. The Dutch people have been shaped by their fortitude and perseverance under tyranny during the war. No wonder our two nations have forged such a bond.
 
When Dutch war survivors speak of those days, the memories of occupation mingle with the memories of liberation. There are tales of homes ransacked and burned, of people wandering homeless through the bombed-out countryside for weeks at a time, there are stories of fear and uncertainty, of starvation. But the stories always come around to the giddy almost feverish celebrations of the days following liberation.
 
In 2005, the Dutch celebrated the 60th anniversary of the liberation of their country, with over 300,000 people attending. A Canadian, in Holland as part of a delegation, was struck by the apparent awareness of even the smallest children present. The children are several generations away from the horrors of that time, yet they honour Canadian veterans with a solemnity that is surprising. Young hands shaking grizzled old hands, young voices haltingly saying ‘thank you’ in English, and young voices singing the Canadian anthem. 
 
Maybe these Dutch children stand out because they seem to have been taught what our own children have not. They have been taught what it was to be there, to be a part of that harsh war, to have lived in such unforgiving times in a place where there was nowhere to hide from the horror. They have been taught what it is to be given the gift of freedom, to be thankful. 
 
The tulips have bloomed over the years, and bloomed and bloomed again. Memories of the war are revived, children and adults reach out to say thank you in parades that honour us in Canada. Streets in Holland are named after Canadian soldiers who died on that soil, and speeches are given to commemorate what it is to share this special bond. Yet the most perfectly eloquent homage of all has been the delivery of new tulip bulbs from Holland to Canada every year for over 65 years, for those blooms now count in the millions. A million thanks, from a country with a million memories of a time long ago.
 
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.
 
~ Laurence Binyon (For the Fallen)
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About the Author

This bio was written by Jo Slade. As you can see she has written about herself in the third person. What normal person would do that? They just wouldn't. Who knows how many other persons might be involved in this thing, a second person? Another third? I worry about it. I - she - we - can't even keep it straight, this paragraph is a damn mess, there are persons all over the place. Round 'em up and shoot 'em. That's what I'd do, and by golly I think that's what Jo Slade would do as well.

Biographic nutshell: Jo has been messing around with words for a long time. Sometimes she'll just say words instead of writing them, it saves on paper.

This column: The columns that will appear here are of a highly serious and scholarly nature, therefore it is advised that you keep a dictionary and ponderous thoughts nearby.

If, after reading the column, you find yourself tossing and turning at night, burning with the need to email me, just do it. I answer to jo@castanet.net




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The views expressed are strictly those of the author and not necessarily those of Castanet. Castanet presents its columns "as is" and does not warrant the contents.

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