The Service That Shapes Us

Written By Noble Trevor Eliott (Mr Fancy Fez) - Assistant Rabban, Al Shamal Shriners

The Story That Brings Us Together

The mall concourse was already full when I arrived—cadets in pressed uniforms, aging veterans in berets, families holding coffee cups against the November chill. A small crowd gathered around the cenotaph display as the last post echoed through the open space.

Then I saw him.

An older veteran sat quietly in a wheelchair, medals arranged neatly across his chest. His hands trembled just slightly—yet his eyes stayed fixed on the wreaths. Behind him, a young cadet struggled to lift his own wreath, arms shaking under its weight. A woman beside me whispered, “He’s trying so hard.”

And that’s when it hit me.

Service isn’t defined by perfection.

It’s revealed in effort.

In presence.

In the willingness to show up—again and again—across generations.

That moment will stay with me long after the ceremony ended. Because what I witnessed wasn’t just Remembrance. It was continuity. A baton passed from weathered hands to new ones. A living demonstration that character is built by what we carry—and who we carry it for.

That morning, as wreaths were laid and memories shared, I kept thinking about how medieval knights lifted their visors to show their face to a king or commander. And while historians tell us the real origin is far more layered—Roman greetings, hat-tips in the early British Army, sailors keeping their palms downward so the officers wouldn’t see tar-stained hands—the meaning remains the same.

A salute is a sign of respect.

A gesture that says:

“I see you. I honour what you’ve done.”

On Remembrance Day, we salute those who served our country. As Shriners, we also salute one another—not with rigid ceremony, but with heart. We salute our Nobles, our Brothers, and our Ladies for their quiet service, their unseen sacrifices, and their unwavering commitment to each other and the children we help.

Because whether we stand at a cenotaph, a Shrine meeting, a hospital visitation, or a parade route, the message is the same:

Service shapes us.

Service binds us.

Service reignites us.

And service is the beginning of purpose—the beating heart of the Shrine.

The EMVP Within Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day is not just a ceremony; it’s a teacher. And if we’re willing to listen, it speaks to every part of the EMVP framework.

1. PURPOSE: Service Is the Spine of Meaning

Purpose isn’t a slogan. It’s the reason we stand up when the world sits down. The cadet didn’t lift the wreath because it was easy. He lifted it because it mattered.

Our work as Shriners is no different.

Purpose is the quiet force that steadies our hands on difficult days—hospital appointments, fundraising fatigue, long drives north in winter, moments when doubt creeps in. Purpose is why we pick up the wreath anyway.

Ask yourself: What am I carrying—and why?

The veterans honoured on Remembrance Day remind us that purpose is not found in convenience.

Purpose is found in commitment.

In showing up.

In choosing the harder right over the easier wrong.

Just like them, our Nobles step forward in times when their families are busy, when careers are demanding, when life is already full. And yet—they still serve. They chair committees. They drive kids to appointments. They volunteer at fundraisers. They greet visitors at the Shrine Centre with a smile that says, welcome home.

Purpose doesn’t demand perfection. It demands heart.

And the Shrine needs that heart now more than ever.

2. VISIBILITY: Service That Can Be Seen Inspires Service That Spread

One of the most striking moments at any Remembrance Day service is the quiet testimony of age.

The uniforms don’t fit like they once did. The marching isn’t always in step. The voices crack during the anthem.

But their presence speaks louder than any microphone.

Because visibility matters.

When a child sees a veteran wearing a row of medals, they understand sacrifice before they understand the word. When the colour party advances—imperfectly, but with dignity—every eye follows. When a wreath is laid slowly and deliberately, the entire crowd breathes differently for a heartbeat.

This is visibility with weight.

Visibility that teaches.

Visibility that forms memory.

And Shriners sometimes forget that our own visibility works the same way.

When a Noble walks into a school wearing a fez, that fez is not decoration — it is a symbol.

When a Divan officer stands quietly at a public ceremony, people notice credibility without a single word spoken. When a club or unit joins a parade, they plant seeds in the minds of future Nobles—men who will remember seeing the red fez glide by and think, I want to be part of that.

Visibility is not about numbers — it is about story.

And Remembrance Day remains one of the strongest storytelling moments in our country.

Today’s ceremony was public — open, unfiltered, honest.Not hidden in a hall.Not reduced to a brief mention in a newsletter.

People saw it. And because they saw it, they felt it.

That is stewardship.

When we show up — fezzes visible, hearts open — we remind the world that good men still step forward. That service is alive. That tradition breathes through action.

Because if we are invisible, our mission becomes invisible too.

3. MENTORSHIP: The Legacy Carried Forward

One of the most powerful images of Remembrance Day is the intergenerational gathering.

A veteran lays a wreath.

A teenager in Air Cadets follows behind.

A child watches from the crowd.

No speeches.

No instructions.

Just learning through presence.

This is mentorship at its purest: wisdom passed forward through witness.

Shriners need this same pattern.

Our youngest Nobles need the stories only our senior members can tell — the parades where snow fell sideways, the long road trips where a truck broke down but the laughter didn’t, the fundraisers where everyone stayed until the thermometer finally crept past the goal line, the first ceremonial that made them realize this fraternity was bigger and deeper than they ever imagined.

But mentorship isn’t one-way.

Our senior Nobles also need the fresh ideas, energy, and hunger for relevance that new members bring — the spark that asks, How do we make the Shrine matter for the next generation?

Mentorship is not a lecture — it is a relationship. A torch passed from one set of hands to another—and an invitation to carry the flame forward.

Just as veterans stand shoulder to shoulder with youth in uniform, our Nobles must stand shoulder to shoulder with the next wave of leaders.

And the best part?

Mentorship keeps both sides young.

Because the most powerful moment in any ceremony is not the bugle — it’s the veteran’s eyes watching the cadet at his side. It’s the unspoken lesson that service is learned through example, especially when life feels heavy.

Every Noble was once steadied by someone. Now it’s our turn.

Invite the younger Brother. Tell him the real stories — the messy ones, the meaningful ones.

Show him how to carry the wreath, even when his arms shake.

That is mentorship.

That is legacy.

That is how the heartbeat continues.

4. ENERGY: The Spark That Must Be Guarded

Remembrance Day ceremonies are not high-octane events.

No fireworks.

No thundering crowds.

No cheering.

Yet somehow, the energy is unmistakable.

It’s in the quiet.

It’s in the stillness.

It’s in the shared breath of a community that feels the weight of history and the hope of the future at the same time.

That kind of energy is what the Shrine needs—not frantic, not chaotic, but steady, enduring, purposeful.

Energy isn't noise.

Energy is spirit.

When a Noble who hasn’t been active in years walks through the Shrine Centre doors again, that’s energy.

When a Divan officer gives a heartfelt toast to service, that’s energy.

When a Lady supports her husband’s commitment to the Shrine with grace, patience, and pride, that’s energy.

When Nobles stand together for a moment of silence, remembering the sacrifices of others, the room itself feels different.

Energy doesn’t come from entertainment — it comes from meaning.

And meaning is the core of Remembrance Day — and the core of why the Shrine exists.

Where Remembrance Day Meets the Shrine

As the colour party marched off at West Edmonton Mall, and the announcer thanked everyone for attending, I found myself thinking about our fraternity.

Remembrance Day teaches us something the Shrine already knows in its bones:

When we honour veterans, we are honouring the very qualities that we value as Shriners:

• Courage

• Duty

• Brotherhood

• Service above self

• A belief that the world can be made better through action

And when we salute them, we also salute ourselves—not out of ego, but out of recognition that we, too, are part of a long chain of service stretching backward and forward through time.

Shriners don’t fight wars.

But we fight for families, for sick children, for struggling communities, for each other.

Service takes many forms.

But every form matters.

How Nobles Can Live These Lessons Today

This is where the ceremony becomes a roadmap.

1. Bring Purpose Back to Meetings

Start with the “why,” not the minutes.

Every meeting should have at least one moment where the room reconnects with mission—whether that’s a patient story, a memory from a veteran Noble, or a reminder of why we wear the fez.

2. Tell Your Stories—Even the Imperfect Ones

Just as Remembrance Day honours stories that are sometimes messy, painful, or incomplete, the Shrine must tell its own stories honestly.

New Nobles join because they want to be part of something bigger. Show them what bigger looks like.

3. Invite Younger Nobles to Stand Beside You

Veterans stand with cadets.

Let seasoned Nobles stand with new members in exactly the same way.

Don’t wait for them to ask.

Extend the hand first.

4. Show Up in Public

Attend community ceremonies in your fez.

Be visible.

Be part of the civic fabric.

When people see Shriners supporting veterans, first responders, and community service, they understand what our fez stands for.

5. Honour the Ladies

Just as military families carry the hidden burdens of service, our Ladies carry the hidden burdens of Shrine life.

Recognize them.

Include them.

Thank them.

A Noble’s service is rarely his alone.

Reflection Questions for Brothers

1. Who first shaped your understanding of service—and what specific lesson from them still guides you today?

2. What recent experience re-awakened your sense of purpose and reminded you why you serve?

3. What is one upcoming moment where you can choose to serve with greater intention rather than routine?

4. Who has supported you through a difficult season, and how has that mentorship influenced your own leadership?

5. Which Noble, volunteer, or emerging leader could benefit most from your guidance right now—and what first step can you take?

6. If you stopped showing up tomorrow, what meaningful role, effort, or connection would fall silent in your club or community?

7. What example does your service currently set for the next generation—and what legacy do you still want to make visible?

Closing Takeaway: The Salute That Matters Most

When knights lifted their visors, it wasn’t just to show their face.

It was to show their intent.

Their humanity.

Their honour.

When we salute veterans on Remembrance Day, we are doing more than participating in ceremony.

We are acknowledging a truth that crosses centuries:

So on this Remembrance Day—and every day after—we proudly salute all our Nobles, our Brothers, and our Ladies for their unwavering commitment to service, to our country, and to one another.

Because the Shrine stands not on buildings or titles, but on the shoulders of people who choose to serve.

May we honour that legacy. May we carry it forward. And may we always remember that the heartbeat of our fraternity is strongest when we serve with purpose, stand with visibility, mentor with heart, and lead with energy rooted in love of community.

Lest we forget.

And lest we ever forget who we are called to be.