This was my first attempt at Storytelling, on a cold Sunday morning in November, I watched my son in a Remembrance Day Parade and for some reason I needed to put down in words what I saw, so long may it continue.

Strange, but with all the different colours here today, red poppies, flags of green and yellow, the uniforms of the Scouts, Cubs, Brownies and the shining instruments of the brigade band, it is the white gloves of the Girl Guides that stand out in my mind.

Young people, row upon row, talking and giggling, awaiting the start of the parade, a voice calls out, a prayer is said, flag bearers take their place, with flags on high, the band strike up and the march is on.

We look for our children as they march by, as parents of past generations looked upon their loved ones as they marched off. The sound of the band gets quieter now, quieter and quieter as it marches away, until only the sound of marching feet can be heard, left right, left right, left right, then silence.

Perhaps now, at this very moment, high in the sky, brave young men are marching shoulder to shoulder, heads held high, “marching forever across the sky”.

“DO NOT FORGET”

By Richard Ridding
A Storyteller from Burntwood.