Dedicated on Memorial Day 1999

Dear One,

     An old Vietnamese poet once saw life beautiful in his own setting. His wife worked so hard to feed him and a "school" of children (Quanh nam ganh gao o ven song/Nuoi nang dang con voi mot chong... --Tu Xuong). He wrote poetry... and it was not for sale. Yet, life is simply meaningful.
     So this is a different time of our life. The end. Yes, the last Memorial Day of the 20th Century.
     Gratitude.org is my canvas, and I am a pure artist -- an American grateful adopted son and humble poet. My work of poetry is not for me to earn a living, but my innermost happiness.
     My happiness is to bring you, my generous readers, a tear of healing. I have 58,000-plus readers who each night bless my dream. My dream is to soothe the hurt within their loved ones. For their posterity, this cyberspace canvas is for them to draw their hearts in silence while reading my poems of love and gratitude...

Linh D. Vo
(The Boy in the Poem)
March 16, 1999

58,000-plus flowers on the black granite; embraced by the green pastures; nurtured by the still waters came from the Potomac River very near. I have named the flower "Honor."

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