I was performing The Sea Lion in the Newport Performing Arts Center. Afterwards a white-haired old woman approached me and said, Hey, you remember me? I looked her over, and I knew I remembered her, but had no idea who she was. She said, Lois. It still didn’t click. She said, Lois Learned, Big Nurse, and I thought, Oh my God. She was a volunteer at Newport, long since retired from the nursing business. This was the nurse on the ward I worked on at the Menlo Park hospital. I didn’t know what to think and she didn’t either, but I was glad she came up to me. I felt there was a lesson in it, the same one I had tried to teach Hollywood. She’s not the villain. She might be the minion of the villain, but she’s really just a big old tough ex-army nurse who is trying to do the best she can according to the rules that she has been given. She worked for the villain and believed in the villain, but she ain’t the villain.

I was a Navy officer writing about Navy problems and I simply stole this lovely Army nurse and popped her into a Navy uniform, where she has done very well for herself.

Her name was McGill, she called herself Lil, but everyone knew her as Nancy.

If our social arrangements were so adjusted that each person could follow that calling in life which they are by nature adapted for, what a great gainer society as a whole would be. These few who are so fortunate as to be able to follow the calling of their heart’s desire make a success of life. Florence Nightingale was one of the fortunate few, who could engage in that occupation for which she was best adapted. Florence Nightingale was a born nurse. In her was found that rare combination of heart, brain and sympathy which makes the ideal nurse. It is when one is laid low by the ravages of disease that they can appreciate to its utmost depth the value of human kindness...In the future, when the war drum will be heard no more, and the only reveille to be sounded will be that which shall call men to the peaceful walks of life, the name of Florence Nightingale will be revered, as a woman who, though delicate and far removed from want, nevertheless was willing to risk her own life, that she might bring relief to that most stupid victim of our present system, the soldier.

Winnie was a woman of her times, there was a war and she too was a soldier.

Mrs. Darling loved to have everything just so, and Mr. Darling had a passion for being exactly like his neighbours; so, of course, they had a nurse. As they were poor, owing to the amount of milk the children drank, this nurse was a prim Newfoundland dog, called Nana, who had belonged to no one in particular until the Darlings engaged her. She had always thought children important, however, and the Darlings had become acquainted with her in Kensington Gardens, where she spent most of her spare time peeping into perambulators, and was much hated by careless nursemaids, whom she followed to their homes and complained of to their mistresses. She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse.

In time of war as in time of peace, the Negro woman has ever been ready to serve for her people's and the nation's good. During the recent World War she pleaded to go in the uniform of the Red Cross nurse and was denied the opportunity only on the basis of racial distinction.

This is your new nurse, Mary Poppins.

Time, that aged nurse,
Rocked me to patience.

I was working in Newport News, Virginia, in a shipyard in defense work. I could have been deferred. In fact, my boss even offered to defer me, but I was in good health and I felt like it would be an honor to serve God and country. So, I didn't want to be known as a 4-F so I would rather go in.

While we lay in the river Mersey a number of men one day came on board, and amongst them was a prepossessing young sailor of apparently about eighteen years of age, named Jack Koberts. This youth drank grog, sang songs, chewed tobacco, enjoyed a yarn, and appeared in all respects, saving the slenderness of his build, like one of ourselves. In a few days, however, we discovered that Jack's true name and designation was Jane Roberts, and a very beautiful young woman she was. She was landed with all possible gentleness, and, I was informed, soon after married a respectable young man. It is remarkable, that about this time several handsome young women committed themselves in the same way, and some probably succeeded in eluding all discovery of their sex, and made a voyage or two to sea.

A man who marries at my age isn’t taking a wife, he’s indenturing a nurse.

Remarkably, a year that has necessarily kept people apart has, in many ways, brought us closer. Across the Commonwealth, my family and I have been inspired by stories of people volunteering in their communities, helping those in need. In the United Kingdom and around the world, people have risen magnificently to the challenges of the year, and I am so proud and moved by this quiet, indomitable spirit. To our young people in particular I say thank you for the part you have played. This year, we celebrated International Nurses’ Day, on the 200th anniversary of the birth of Florence Nightingale. As with other nursing pioneers like Mary Seacole, Florence Nightingale shone a lamp of hope across the world. Today, our front-line services still shine that lamp for us — supported by the amazing achievements of modern science — and we owe them a debt of gratitude. We continue to be inspired by the kindness of strangers and draw comfort that — even on the darkest nights — there is hope in the new dawn.

(About Jeanne Calment) Born in 1875, she was already a wife at the time of the Dreyfus affair, a mother when General De Gaulle was in primary school, a grandmother before the 1929 crisis. She had evidently taken a liking to it, got into the part: she told of having been at Victor Hugo's funeral, of having known Van Gogh - 'dirty and sickly' -, of having danced with Joséphine Baker. She was given a solemn funeral. The President of the Republic, who was then Jacques Chirac, had sad words for the 'grandmother of the fatherland'.