Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted"

God saw you getting tired,
when a cure was not to be;
He closed his arms around you,
and whispered, "Come to Me".
In tears we saw you sinking,
we watched you fade away.

Our hearts were almost broken,
you fought so hard to stay
But when we saw you sleeping,
so peacefully, free from pain
We could not wish you back,
to suffer so again.

So keep your arms around Jean,
Lord, and give her special care,
Make up for all she suffered,
and all that seemed unfair.