ADAMS: To the Farm Kid Who Fought for My Freedom
Every November, I place a poppy over my heart. I do it in remembrance of my great-grandfather, A.W. Robinson. A farm kid from Oshawa who left everything he knew to fight the Nazis in the Second World War. He didn't go for glory or recognition. He went because freedom was under threat, and he understood that when freedom is at risk anywhere, it's our duty to stand up and defend it. He was an ordinary Canadian who did something extraordinary.
Raised in a small community built on hard work and faith, he answered the call like thousands of others from across this country. They came from farms, factories, and fishing towns. They left their families, crossed oceans, and fought to liberate people they would never meet, because they believed in something bigger than themselves.
Every year on Remembrance Day, I think about that courage. I think about how a young man from rural Ontario found himself on the other side of the world, fighting for ideals that still define our country today: democracy, human dignity, and the rule of law. It's easy, in our modern comfort, to forget how fragile those ideals once were, and how fragile they remain.
Too often, we see attempts to politicize Remembrance Day or turn it into a platform for division. But that's not what this day is about. It's about gratitude for the women and men who put on the uniform, for the families who waited and worried, and for the generations who rebuilt a freer, fairer world from the ashes of war. When I attend ceremonies at the cenotaph, when I hear the notes of the Last Post, I think of my great-grandfather.
I think of the courage it took to walk toward danger, and the humility with which he returned home. I think of all those who served beside him, many of whom never made it back. I think of the Canada they handed down to us; a country defined not by what divides us, but by what unites us. I was very young when he passed away. I never had the chance to ask him about what he saw or how the war changed him. But I often imagine what I'd say if I could see him now. I'd shake his hand and thank him, not just for his service, but for the example he set. For reminding me that love of country isn't about words, but about action. It's about service, sacrifice, and believing that Canada is worth standing up for.
That's what Remembrance Day means to me. It's not about politics. It's about the quiet heroism of Canadians like A.W. Robinson, who faced down tyranny so that generations after them could live in freedom. Their courage is the foundation of everything we cherish today: our democracy, our rights, our ability to live and speak freely.
So as I place that poppy over my heart once again, I think of that farm kid from Oshawa who helped liberate Europe from darkness. I think of the world he helped secure, and the responsibility we all share to protect it. We honour them best not just by remembering their names, but by living up to their example with gratitude, with service, and with the steadfast belief that Canada's best days are still ahead.
Lest we forget.
