At 11:00, I paused to look outside while hearing the dings of the clock of the World Service and the silence afterward. A man stopped beside the river, just outside our window, took off his hat and bowed his head. On the other side of the river, two figures also stopped and walked toward the shore. A moving sight, indeed.
Today's not about politics, or pacifism, or the Hague. It's about the kids who died too soon, the young dad who lost a leg, the two guys in the back of the car in Bend, Oregon who were sent to WWII while the two in the front (one of whom was my grandfather) were spared.
I like this tradition of two minutes of silence for gratitude.