53 www.mbnwo.legion.ca Provincial Contest Winner - Senior Essay Aaliyyah Kazeem Abimbola November 11th, 2025 Dear Diary, Today I felt different in ways I cannot express. Not heavier but deeper, as if something inside me had shifted. This morning when I stood with my instrument in the cold, crisp air waiting for the ceremony to commence, I felt something transpose inside me. It was like an absurd mix of emotions with a quiet feeling lingering in my chest. Every year, playing in the band on Remembrance Day hits like a ton of bricks plummeting from the sky, but this time, it landed differently. It wasn't just about performing music or following the tradition. It was a promise I made to people I have never met. As we set up, no one talked much. Usually someone cracks a joke, complains about the way their instrument is blowing or how early we must play, but today the air was calmer and more respectful. Our sounds came out softer, almost careful, like our instruments understood what the day stood for. While I sat there waiting, I found myself thinking about the soldier I imagine every year. He is not anyone that I know, not a family member, or a person whose story I know, yet he is pivotal to me. I do not have a clearly painted picture of him in my mind, only an outline of a person. Someone who once laughed, who had dreams, who planned a future, who messed up sometimes, had favourite meals, fears and memories with his loved ones. Someone real. Someone of material. During the quiet part of the ceremony, when the room grew still that I could hear my own heartbeat singing inside me, my mind went straight to him again. It was as if everything else went away and the only thing that existed for a moment was the thought of all he gave up. Not just his life, but every moment that fills a life, the ordinary ones too, the warm tea on a chilly morning, the inside jokes with friends, every birthday celebration, every all-nighter he pulled. All the regular moments he never got to keep. Thinking about that felt both unfair and important. It is unfair that someone lost so much, and important that I treat the loss greatly. Maybe that's what remembrance means; feeling the weight of someone else's sacrifice and choosing not to look away from it. Choosing to let it change something within you, no matter how miniature it may seem. When I got home, I could not shake the feeling away. It was pressing against my rib cage, begging to be poured out. So, I wrote him a letter. Dear Soldier, I do not know your name, but today I thought about you. I thought about the life you once had, the life you should have had, and I wondered what your dreams and ambitions were. I wondered what you were like as a child, what made you laugh, what made you scared. I do not have answers to any of these questions, and maybe I never will, but one thing I know is your sacrifice still matters. Today, in the band, I played for you. I played for every moment you missed and every chance you lost. I played for the birthdays that never happened, the conversations you never got to finish, the future you planned, the people who loved you and the people you would have met if time had waited a little longer for you. I played your name - even though I do not know what it is, hoping somehow the sound reached you. Thank you for giving up tomorrow so I could have mine. Sincerely, A stranger. After I wrote it, I sat with the letter for a while, staring at the words and the little water droplets that I did not know had fallen. The simple fact that I get to wake up, go to school, laugh with friends, complain about homework, and play music suddenly felt enormous. That's what remembrance really is. Not just the silence. Not just the ceremony. But the moment something inside you shifts and you remember someone who sacrificed everything for you. Maybe that's why today felt different. I finally understood, not perfectly, but a little more than before what it means to honor someone's memory through something as simple as a song. The Royal Canadian Legion
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