When our daughter turned one month old, my grandmother flew over three thousand kilometers to visit us and see her great-granddaughter. One afternoon, the baby started crying uncontrollably. We tried feeding and rocking her, but nothing worked.
That’s when the true expert stepped in. Grandma held the baby close and began to gently rock her up and down, singing a lullaby that I remembered from my childhood, possibly even composed by her or her own mother: “You’re my little darling, you’re my sweet little one, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, drift off to sleep my dear,” and she repeated it with variations. I still remember every note and intonation. By then, we were already exhausted from the nightly awakenings and the usual whirlwind of life with a newborn. Sleep was a constant craving.
As our daughter began to calm down, I thought I might as well lie down too and catch a few winks. Grandma kept singing. Within five minutes, my husband came home, laid down beside me, and fell asleep instantly. Shortly after, our son, who was nearly ten and never napped during the day, climbed in between us without hesitation and soon drifted off as well. That peaceful “rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye…” was impossible to resist.
We all slept until the evening, waking up deeply refreshed. It’s one of the happiest memories of my life, all of us sleeping in a heap, with Grandma’s soothing voice above us, offering complete trust and a sense of peace and safety that consumed every part of us.
