When I was a little girl, my parents took me nearly every year to visit my mother's parents. They lived several hours away, so it was always a treat to see them. One of my favorite memory's of those visits was sitting in my Grandpa's lap as he sat in a large, upholstered rocker. I remember it being a dark red, but that might be my imagination playing tricks on me. He would also be holding at least one or two of my siblings at the same time.
Slowly he would rock back and forth, back and forth and begin singing Rock-a-Bye-Baby. When he got to the end of the song he would begin singing:
Hush be still,
As still as a mouse,
There's a baby in the house
Not a monkey, not a toy,
But a happy brown-eyed boy.
He would then go back to singing Rock-a-Bye-Baby. I don't know how many times I heard him sing this song, but it stuck with me.
Three days after my eleventh birthday, I was practicing the piano when the phone rang. That wasn't too unusual in our house. The phone was constantly ringing. My mother answered the phone and then came out to the living room to tell me that Grandpa Harmon had passed away. I was shocked. It was the first person I ever knew who had died. I thought of this gentle man holding two or three squirmy grandchildren in his lap at a time and softly singing. I remember sitting at the piano crying.
Ten and a half years later, I held my first daughter in my arms. One of the first songs I sang to her was Grandpa Harmon's version of Rock-a-Bye-Baby. I changed the words slightly to describe her eye color and the fact that she was a girl. I sang this song to each daughter as they joined our family, but I'm not sure if I ever told them where I had learned the song.
I'm looking forward to someday being a grandmother and holding my own squirmy grandchildren in my lap as I sit in my soft blue rocking chair. As I softly sing Hush Be Still to them, I will think back to how their great-great grandfather introduced this song to my family. Perhaps one day, they will sing it to their grandchildren as well.
Seriously? I had no idea the second verse was special to our family, or where the story came from. I wouldn't dream of singing it any other way! :) I love these blog posts--it's so interesting to hear the stories behind the traditions!
ReplyDeleteLoralee,
ReplyDeleteI've also sang that song to my children and grandson. I’ve also changed the words to match their sex and eye color. As I've sung it, I've thought of a grandpa who sang to us and loved us very much. It is a joy to be able to hand down the tradition of rocking and singing that song to another generation.