Lullaby – Story Snippet

“Please don’t scream anymore.”

Everyone was startled by the low words from the crouching man in the middle of the room. They hadn’t realized that he’d stopped singing the quiet lullaby to himself until that moment.

“I don’t want to know what will happen if you wake her up.”

It was his oldest friend that ventured the question they were all wanting to ask. “Wake who up, buddy?”

“The crying woman in the back of my head.”

Walk Through The Night – Thankful Thursday

Today I am grateful for all the times my mother sang us to sleep as children. She loves music and wrote different lullabies for each of her eight children and some of her friends’ children as well. I have no children as of yet, but I do have ten nieces and nephews and I have sung each of them to sleep at least once using music that my mother used to sing me to sleep with. Sadly I do not have a recording of any of her lovely music, but I do have a song written and performed by Cherie Call that reminds me very much of what my mom did every other night for her children. (It was every other night because she switched off with Dad, who told us stories to lull us to sleep.)

Check out the original Thankful Thursday.

Once Even I Was A Little Child, And I Was Afraid

Matt hummed softly as he walked down the long hallway, carrying his precious bundle so carefully. Halfway down the hall a door stood open and inside was a bedroom done up in soft warm colors, reds and browns and golds with an occasional touch of blue to offset it. He moved towards the bed which was already turn down, the quilt showing a starburst pattern on it.

Once his little bundle was placed in the bed and tucked in he sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through the child’s hair and his humming continued and moved into words.

Little child, be not afraid
The rain pounds harsh against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger
There is no danger
I am here tonight
 

The little girl in front of him smiled and rolled over so that she could peek up at him through her eye lashes, humming along with his little lullaby.

Little child, be not afraid
The thunder explodes
And lightning flash
Illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight
 
And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forest and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
 
Little child, be not afraid
The storm clouds mask your beloved moon
And it’s candle like beams
So keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight
 
Little child, be not afraid
The wind makes creatures of our trees
And the branches to hands
They’re not real understand
And I am here tonight
 

She frowned slightly, sleepily at the words about the moon. Matt smiled, but kept singing softly. He knew that she’d always preferred the sun or the stars to the moon, but this was the way the song went.

And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
 
For you know once even I was a little child
And I was afraid
But a gentle someone always came
To dry all my tears
To switch sleep for fears
And to give a kiss goodnight
 

Matt’s voice shook slightly over the previous verse, remembering when his mother would sing him to sleep. The little girl’s eyes had slipped closed by now, but she was still just slightly awake, so Matt carried on.

Well, now I am grown
And these years have shown
The rains a part of how life goes
But it’s dark and it’s late
So I’ll hold you and wait
Until your frightened eyes do close
 
And I hope that you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forest and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
Everything’s fine in the morning
The rain’ll be gone in the morning
But I’ll still be here in the morning
 

After the lyrics had all been sung, Matt continued humming slightly though the little girl was deeply asleep. His hand had long since stopped carding through her dark red hair an sat limply in his lap. His eyes hadn’t stopped watering throughout the ending of the song and tears were still trickling quietly down his cheeks.

Little Mary snuffled softly in her bed, unaware of her silently crying son next to her.


This little snippet is far into the future for this little universe, but it’s been on my mind for a while and I had to write it down.

My mom often sang us to sleep at night, so much so that the first thing I have ever tried to get my nieces and nephews to sleep is some of her songs being sung softly.