A Ceremony of Respect

This year at the Etobicoke Civic Centre, Remembrance Day felt especially meaningful. I arrived early with my camera and slipped into the edge of the crowd, the cold air carrying that familiar quiet hum before a ceremony begins. When the cadets marched in, the whole atmosphere shifted. You could feel everyone straighten up a little.

These cadets weren’t standing a long vigil—this group was there strictly for the ceremony—but even in that short window of time, they brought a sense of precision and respect that defined the morning. Their movements were crisp, their uniforms sharp, and their expressions steady. They marched into place, took their positions, and instantly became a living part of the remembrance.

One cadet caught my eye as I raised my camera. She stood with her rifle grounded, head slightly bowed, the bright poppy on her chest almost glowing in the cold autumn light. Behind her, the crowd had gone quiet—families, seniors, veterans, kids wrapped in scarves—everyone taking in the moment.

Watching her, I was reminded of something important: we need these young people to remember our veterans. As time moves on, the number of those who served grows smaller. It’s these younger generations who will carry the meaning of Remembrance Day into the future. When they show up, even for a short ceremony, they help ensure that the sacrifices made decades ago are never forgotten.

The ceremony unfolded with the familiar traditions—speeches, wreaths, the Last Post, and two minutes of silence. Through it all, the cadets stood steady, representing the continuity between past and future. Their presence said more than any microphone could.

When the ceremony ended, they marched out as smoothly as they had come in, red sashes swinging, boots striking the ground in perfect rhythm. It reminded me how powerful these moments can be—even when brief. It’s not about how long they stand guard; it’s about the respect, the intention, and the promise that remembrance will continue.

For me, being there with my camera wasn’t about getting the perfect photograph. It was about capturing the feeling—the stillness, the gratitude, the quiet strength of the community gathered together. And seeing these young cadets honour our veterans gave me hope that the stories of those who served will live on, carried forward by hands far younger than ours.

Sometimes the most important acts aren’t the biggest—they’re the ones where a community pauses, remembers, and teaches the next generation to remember too.