That Perfect Little Prayer

Tonight it struck me that I've been saying the same prayer every night with my kids, for their whole lives, that I said with my mom as a little girl.  I started singing it quietly to my son when he was a wee baby, and I just never stopped.  My singing was the magical cure that could calm him.  Almost like a snake charmer.  Not much else worked.  I'm still his touchstone for calm in this crazy world, and I dearly hope I always will be.  I also sang Puff the Magic Dragon to him over and over and over.  Even when I was deliriously tired with a cranky baby, I just kept singing in the dark with him because he loved it so.  It makes me teary to remember doing that now that, at nine years old, he comes up to my nose.  And when my little girl came along, she got to join in our ritual, too.

But back to the prayer... when my mom and I used to say it together before I went to bed, it was third in succession after two others.  We had a routine.  (Perhaps this began the series of many routines I find myself forming and craving, and always have... or perhaps I'm just a wee bit OCD.  Or, likely, both.)  In my childhood, the first prayer was mine to say alone (The Lord's Prayer), the second one my mom would say alone (it was one generally about gratitude, though I don't remember all the words now, but it included something about being thankful for the "birds that sing" and for "Everything"), and the third one, we'd say in unison together... and, well, that's the only one I say with my kids. 

Actually, I don't say it with my kids.  I sing it.  And they sing it with me.  Because I tend to turn random stuff, especially with my kids, into songs.  My daughter even danced to it last night.  It's still spell-binding to my son, the same way Puff the Magic Dragon was when he was teeny.  His eyes just hone in and lock on mine, and he sings with me.  It's just a thing we do.  And I love it more and more every single night we do it, as they get older, and as I get older.  First, I sing it with my daughter in her room, then with my son in his.

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

Guide me through the starry night

And wake me with the morning light.

Amen.

(We sing the first and third lines to the tune of the first part of the alphabet song: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, and the second and fourth lines to the tune of the next part of the alphabet song: H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P.)

And I like remembering that "Amen" means an expression of solemn ratification or agreement;  “it is so”; “certainty”; “truth”; and “verily.”  

It's that simple.  But it's also kind of Everything that matters at the same time when I really open my heart and just sit with it.  It's like star gazing and dreaming all wrapped up in a perfect little prayer.