In her life she stood, silent and somber, for many memorials and funeral services, as did so many others, to pay her last respects.

She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to stand for hours without taking a seat or a bathroom break, just to see her flag-draped coffin — would she? Yet thousands waited in those conditions to do just that.

If the dead see us weeping, if they can see balloon launches (which run contrary to science and so should be against the law in any case), they can then see anyone who does something good in their name. Balloons drift off, never to be seen again (except when snagged in some poor tree’s branches, or found in the stomachs of some turtles which have mistaken them for their normal jellyfish prey, or their broken-down microbits in our own lungs). But trees endure, and give us something to care for and focus our pain on, over the days, months, and years after our loss and their planting.

Many who knew her, whether near or far, commented on and admired her devotion to her country and to others. In her coronation speech, she pledged herself “to your service… Throughout all my life and with all my heart I shall strive to be worthy of your trust.” Her son, now King Charles III, vowed to be like his mother in serving their citizen-subjects.

While still a princess she was a Girl Guide. In the United States, the Guides’ sister organization — Girl Scouts — is perennially short of volunteers and donations.

So let your lives be queenly and reflect hers in service. Let your heart, even if grief-stricken for Her Royal Highness, impel you to go forth and be of use, as she was. Almost every country has Girl Guides/Scouts, and every locale needs trees. Find a group or place that needs your work, find a place that needs trees, and plant some — and in so doing, bloom where you are planted.