By Laurel Hessing
At memorial service for sisters Betty Brown [1905-1982] and Jane Hall [1911-1982]
Held on the commons at Free Acres, New Jersey, on October 10, 1982

For Betty

Birds were her children and they were her friends
Coming from the distant ends
Of the earth to reach her garden fair
Where she heard opera from her chair
Petted her cats and lived in peace
Marking spring by flights of geese
She did not hear well, had limited sight
But she knew what was just and what was right
She had the vision to pick the rare
To cherish the beautiful, pure and fair
And found these treasures not with the elite
But in the garden at her feet
In the song of birds, in the light filtered through
The trees she loved, in morning dew
In spring flowers and autumn seeds
In shining stars and lowly weeds

She had good fortune for she loved living
Wasn’t needy, she preferred giving
And when trains called to Betty Brown
She smiled in her garden and turned them down

The birds fly south, the flowers fade
As if condolences were paid
To the gentle lady in the green eye shade
But Betty was part of Free Acres life
As a child growing up, as Eddy Brown’s wife
As Jane’s dear sister; as neighbor and friend
We won’t see her walking round the bend
Of Apple tree Row from the senior’s bus
But she will still come back to us
As long as Free Acres legends last
Though now she belongs to our past
She’s part of Free Acres and will be here
The kindly lady who seemed to appear
From a quieter time, a gentler year

For Jane

She did not long for worldly things,
money things, Jane Hall
She’d tell us now to strive for peace,
for love and warmth for all
But who will show the babies flowers
and who’ll prune wild trees
Who will plant for others;
for humming birds and bees?
She said “George asked about the morning glories.
He missed them quite a bit
I’ll plant them by the tennis court where he likes to sit”
She gathered leaves near meadow trees;
gaily raked them up
But Jane was special guardian of the buttercup

We can plant blue morning glories by the tennis court
Because the one who thought of us had her life cut short
We can always keep the buttercups, let them live again
Not mow until their petals fall let them live for Jane
But if her courage and zest for life and uncomplaining ways
Lead us like a golden light through all of our days
If we let these lead like shining stars
that break the dark till dawn
Love nature and help others more,
Janey will live on

But who will show the babies flowers
and who’ll prune wild trees
Who will plant for others
and for humming birds and bees?
And can’t you somehow hear
Jane’s voice telling you and me
“Just keep some buttercups next spring
near the sycamore tree
Dear friends, leave some buttercups
and remember me”