CLARA BARTON | A Song of Service
- Greg McNeilly
- Apr 12
- 2 min read
On April 12th, we remember the passing of Clara Barton—nurse, educator, reformer, and founder of the American Red Cross. Her life was not merely a series of accomplishments but a testament to what one soul can do when guided by compassion and conviction. In her time, she stood where others faltered, tended wounds that others ignored, and spoke for those silenced by war, disaster, and prejudice.
CLARA BARTON | A Song of Service”—a tribute to the spirit of service that still echoes through her name and deeds. This poem is featured in Red, White & Verse and is available here.
CLARA BARTON | A Song of Service
Service sings in the marrow of this land,
An anthem of duty, in each American hand.
Entering our world when hope was born,
In 1821, on a Christmas morn,
Arrived Clara Barton, beneath winter’s scorn.
Five children’s tales her parents wove,
In Massachusetts fields, where virtue strove.
A farmer’s daughter, a teacher she became,
In the hallowed halls of learning, she staked her claim,
In Massachusetts and New Jersey, earned her early fame.
Then on to the capital, the Patent Office’s call,
Amongst the first of her gender, standing tall.
Yet the true call came in a battle’s roar,
From ’61 to ’65, amidst the gore,
The Angel of the Battlefield, her moniker wore.
Discrimination, the specter, shadowed her path,
Yet steadfast Clara did not yield to its wrath.
Her commitment served as her mighty shield,
In the bloodied fields, where her fate was sealed,
Where humanity’s cost, to her, was revealed.
Post-war winds guided her across the sea,
To the International Red Cross’s plea,
She returned with a vision, resolute and strong,
In ’81, her American Red Cross was born,
A beacon amidst disasters, to humanity sworn.
Presiding till ’04, through flood and storm,
Her tenure saw the organization transform.
In Johnstown Flood, Galveston hurricane’s rage,
She brought solace, easing the painful stage,
A guardian angel, writing history’s page.
But her struggle reached beyond physical relief,
A voice for women’s rights, she was their chief.
And for African Americans, her support was firm,
Equality, and dignity, for each confirm’d,,
Her legacy, a testament that we affirm.
In 1912, her mortal journey ceased,
In Maryland’s embrace, her spirit released.
Yet, Clara Barton lives on, her memory bright,
In the Red Cross’s work, in every humanitarian fight,
Her service sings on, in the silent night.
By Greg McNeilly
