My poppy sits in a lemon tree planter overlooking San Francisco Bay. It was bought for me by my wonderful Mother-in-Law who lost her grandfather George Sinclair in WW1. It travelled 6,000 miles in my hand luggage to my Californian home where it reminds my family daily about the sacrifice made by my British relatives and others. Every November I take it into my children’s school and talk to them about the poppy, its meaning and why we must never forget. There’s something very touching seeing children of such diverse cultural backgrounds listening to the story of the poppy, and learning about the sacrifice made by all nations 100 years ago so they could be free to sit side by side learning today, unified and not separated by their differences.