In 2012, I took my grandsons, then living in Belgium, to the Normandy beaches and war memorials. At the American cemetery overlooking Omaha Beach we saw a French priest sprinkling holy water on the crosses marking American graves. With him were three bus loads of adolescent school children praying over the graves that he had sprinkled with holy water.
It was a teachable moment that reframed the way that I had always felt about the French. It also occurred to me that three busloads of American students 12-14 would be a scene of total chaos instead of the reverence and respect that the French students were exhibiting.
It is not seen in the photo, but there were fresh roses on the ground by each "unknown" cross.
Here is a more peaceful scene of Omaha Beach as seen today.
It was a teachable moment that reframed the way that I had always felt about the French. It also occurred to me that three busloads of American students 12-14 would be a scene of total chaos instead of the reverence and respect that the French students were exhibiting.
It is not seen in the photo, but there were fresh roses on the ground by each "unknown" cross.
Here is a more peaceful scene of Omaha Beach as seen today.