Lullabies were how mothers once transmitted the language and the stories of their culture to their children. They were sometimes perfectly sung; at other times, imperfectly sung.

It is said that when a child is born, he recognises his mother’s voice. What power her voice must have. She is not only the bringer of a birth, she is also the bearer of her ancestral heritage; which she passes forward through the lullabies she sings and the stories she tells her Little One when it is born.

In the old days, it was said that a father inherited his father’s trade; and a mother inherited the cultural heritage of her family of origin. It is this cultural heritage that travelled onward when women immigrated to a foreign land. Gender was important in the early days of humanity. It distinguished what we were created to do.

Mothers gave birth to the next generation and it was their birthright to do so. A mother was also a teacher. Through her lullabies and through the power of her voice–she transmitted the knowledge of her foremothers to her children.

It is an instinctual force. Our need to tell stories through sound. We long to hear the voices of those who came before us, even as the onward momentum of life pushes us forward. Some of these lullabies are sad. They speak of the heartaches and tragedies of ‘Our People’. Others speak of our hopes and dreams.

As we change, our songs change. Our voice is forever crying out to be heard–no matter how perfect or imperfect we are.

We all have stories to tell. We all have stories we long to pass down. These stories are our heirlooms. When we successfully pass these down–through our lullabies–we know that one day, we will hear a voice guiding us. We will remember that we are not alone. We hear the voice of those who came before us.

Blessing us and guiding us–so that we will move forward into lands yet unknown.

The Queen of Rose by Dipa Sanatani

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