Letter: A grandmother’s wartime poem (July 16)
Each night during World War II, I would kneel with my grandmother as she prayed for my uncle, Francis Orval, who was serving in the armed forces in Europe and in the islands. She and I would pray for their safe return. The following is a poem she wrote during that time. God answered her prayer and brought her boys safely home.
“Old Glory”
By Florence Ruth (Harmon) Myers
May the flag of our country keep waving;
May we all pray in one accord,
Until we see the enemy vanquished;
And we all stand in fear of the Lord.
For God surely wants her to fly;
She was born through the blood of our nation;
By men who were willing to die.
The blue is the blue of Heaven;
The stars are our guide in the night;
The red represents the blood that was shed;
And our souls are washed pure in the white.
The pole is that staff that supports her;
And our soldiers are the army of God;
And the people who give to sustain them;
May also represent the rod. (Psalms 2:1-9) “Thou shalt break them with a rod of Iron” Psalms 2:9
God blesses the nation that loves him;
The battle is his, He has said;
He is there when they’re sick and dying,
He visits the home of the dead.
There are men who have gone on before us,
Who have suffered and bled for our land.
And now our loved ones are dying —
Is it true that you don’t understand?
Today as I knelt down in prayer,
The spirit of God lingered near;
I seemed to catch a vision of the suffering and pain;
The misery, the dread, and the fear.
Then I saw foreign country;
Our soldiers were fighting to win;
The shots and shells were falling about;
Midst sorrow, and strife, and the sin.
I saw through a veil of smoke;
Our boys in the darkest Japan;
Shut away in their grimy prisons;
Tortured only like the enemy can.
I saw airplanes falling out of the sky;
brought down by an enemy’s plane.
I could see the still face of one of our boys;
Who would never be home again.
And then with tear-streaming eyes;
I saw in that great sea of faces;
Many a face was bleeding and trusting,
Thinking of home no doubt;
Feeling that we were behind them,
Pulling to help them out.
Then as God’s spirit touched me,
I saw in a vision of light,
Mothers and mothers and mothers
Whose sons are in this great fight.
They sat in the quiet evening,
Eyes dimmed with unshed tears;
They hold in their laps the Bible;
As they read, it quiets their fears.
They think of their sweet baby boys
Who once played there on the floor,
And they pray that God in his mercy
Will just bring them home safe once more.
Then, as their eyes stray to the window,
With a chill in their hearts they see
Stars representing those dear, precious, boys
Who’ve enlisted and gone over the seas.
Well, nevertheless, mothers gave them,
Some smiled when their boys went away;
But God alone knows the heartache,
And he’ll bring them back home some day.
And so as time marches swiftly on,
And clouds are thick overhead,
Many a home, God bless them,
Are hanging out crepe for the dead; (The custom of using crepe paper for making wreaths and ribbons)
And many a soldier is dying,
And many are crippled for life.
Is it right for us to care less
And not have a part in the strife.
May God have mercy upon us,
For God has an all-seeing eye,
And he knows our hearts
And he knows when we really do try.
I read in the evening paper,
Of three boys reported lost;
And my heart stood still for a moment,
As I thought of terrible cost.
They are spending their money by millions,
They are giving it with a free hand;
But can anyone give like a mother,
Who gives sons to defend our land.
So then, let us all stand together;
Yes, let us help hold the pole
That keeps Old Glory a-waving,
’Til we come to the home of the soul.
Some think it’s a sin to salute her,
But God knows our hearts, and therefore,
Old Glory represents God’s great blessings;
May we all honor God evermore.
(It is interesting to note here, that my grandmother only had a 4th grade education. Her school sat where the armory is now.)
Anyce Ruth Malone Hutchison
Madera
Thank you for publishing Mrs. Florence Ruth Myers’ poem, “Old Glory.” It was a beautiful poem written by a patriotic American.
Written in the middle of World War II, the poem reflects the comfort and solace one Christian woman found in the Holy Scriptures. “Old Glory” reflects the trust and confidence Mrs. Myers and her generation of Americans felt about the eventual outcome of that worst of all wars.
I thank, too, Mrs. Anyce Ruth Malone Hutchison for submitting the poem to The Madera Tribune. I have always been an advocate for The Madera Tribune to publish poems that meet the editor’s standards for good taste and good content. As a reader of The Madera Tribune, I depend on Mr. Doud to sift through all of the submissions.
Now that The Madera Tribune has published “Old Glory,” I hope Madera teachers will incorporate it into their American History courses. I am all for the study of history, but I maintain that literature is a part of it and should not be relegated to literature courses alone. Can you imagine studying the American Revolution without learning about “Common Sense” by Thomas Paine, published Jan. 10, 1776?
The Madera Tribune is a Christmas present I give myself every day of the year it is published. I have cut the poem out and I have laminated it. Thank you for sharing it with us — all of you. And as for grandmother only having a fourth-grade education, it is obvious to me that the home in which the author of the poem grew up was her first school, and her parents her first teacher — just as it should be.
How do you define “Quality of Life”? Life is a constellation. Among the stars in mine are: the stars of “Faith,” “Hope,” “Charity,” and “Poetry.” I sincerely believe a good poem can make a difference in a life. I encourage all of the readers of The Madera Tribune to submit those little poems they have penned in moments of inspiration. Share your thoughts with our community.
Brian Donald O’Donovan,
Madera