A number of years ago Southern Living had an article about a lady in Homewood who had Flanders poppies. It seems her brother fought in World War 1 and gathered seeds before he left Europe. They were forgotten and were in his uniform pocket for many years before they found and planted. The descendants of those seeds were still growing in her yard after 60 years. As I get older, I more and more appreciate things like heirloom poppies and plants. And who can forget the poem,

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

-- John McCrae

The red Flanders’ poppy was first described as a flower of remembrance by Colonel John McCrae, who was Professor of Medicine at McGill University of Canada before World War One. Colonel McCrae had served as a gunner in the Boer War, but went to France in World War One as a medical Officer with the first Canadian Contingent.