My Mam, Staff Nurse Edna Patterson and colleagues. Dont know which ward but it looks like the huts. I also came across this poem in her old nursing papers: The Nurse The world grows better year by year, Because some nurse in her little sphere Puts on her apron and grins and sings, And keeps on doing the same old things. Taking temperatures, giving pills To remedy mankind’s numberless ills; Feeding the baby, answering bells, Being polite with a heart that rebels. Longing for home and all the while Wearing the same old professional smile; Blessing the new-born baby’s first breath, Closing the eyes that are still in death. Taking the blame for the doctor’s mistakes, Oh, dear, what a lot of patience it takes; Going off duty at seven o’clock Tired, discouraged and ready to drop. But called back on special 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 uniforms new In that city above, where the head nurse is You.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 10:37:07 +0000
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