Warwick:
Betsy Evans

Ned Tribute: (Read during Warwick, Ma. Metcalf Chapel Tribute 2/23/01)

My Partner, Jeff Coulson, & I were Ned’s preschool teachers at Giving Tree 23 years ago. When Claire enrolled Ned he had just turned three. Over the years, Jeff & I have thought of Ned many times. There are some children that you teach & some who come along that teach you. Jeff & I were in our early teaching years; with Ned we learned & he taught. He had energy & a spirit that was contagious. He’d rush into the Playhouse & dress-up in some exuberant way, usually with a hat cocked at an odd angle on his head. We’d go outside & he’d run ahead of the group. He’d go straight to the highest place on the playground & jump off—a full leap with arms spread wide, like he was sure that any day now he’d be able to fly. There was something about Ned that said ‘here I am so deal with it’. We learned to put our anxiety aside & feel his deep joy. That year too, thanks to Ned, every child in the school learned the F word. Ned could out swear any adult with pride. Jeff & I learned that it just wasn’t worth taking words too seriously—that Ned was determined to try out life vigorously & wholeheartedly, & there was no stopping him, nor did we want to try. Fortunately for Ned, he had a smile that could thaw your deep freezer. He’d have his little cap on & he’d smile at you * you’d just give up. Children were drawn to him too. He loved pretend play, & acting out anything dramatic. He was a divergent & adventurous thinker. When you gave Ned a task or a set of materials, he would often do something completely different than what you had anticipated. We’ve always had a tradition at Giving tree of having children draw self-portraits. So one day I sat down with Ned & asked him if he would like to draw a picture of himself. But he wasn’t interested in that. He took the yellow marker first & began to draw. Narrating as he drew, he created a poem & a drawing simultaneously. “I’m making a chimney. A rocket. An octopus that’s squiggling. A tree. I made a tree! That’s a sun.” After using several colors & with a final wave of his marker, he said, “Ta-dah!” That simple three-year-old “ta-dah” spoke volumes about who Ned Green was then, & who he would grow up to be.

Happy flying, Ned, wherever you are.

Love, Betsy