I found this poem whil going through Jane's memoribilia and
wanted to share it with you. I hope you like it.
The world grows better year by year,
Because some nurse in her little sphere,
Puts on her apron and smiles and sings,
And keeps on doing the same old things.
Taking the temperature, giving the pills,
To remedy mankinds numberless ills,
Feeding the baby, ansewring the bells,
Being polite wiith a heart that rebels.
Longing for home and all the while,
Wearing the same old professional smile,
Blessing the newborn babies first breath,
Closing their eyes that are still in death.
Taking the blame off the doctors mistakes,
Oh dear, what a lot of patience it takes,
Going off duty at seven fifteen,
Tired and discouraged, and ready to drop.
But called back on duty at seven fifteen,
with woe in her heart, but it must not be seen.
Morning and evening and noon and night,
Just doing it over and hoping it's right.
When we lay down our caps and cross the bar,
Oh Lord, will you give us just one little star,
To wear in our crowns with our uniforn new,
In that city above where the head nurse is you.