Reflections

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

A gentle reminder for the mothers out there (and fathers can benefit too):

In ancient history the mother of the future king was often one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, sometimes 2nd only to the king. Why? Because they knew her influence on the future of the kingdom was immense, often more than any other person.

In our society today, though, motherhood takes a backseat to so many other things. Even the most powerful lawyer, the most skilled surgeon, the best executive, can and will be replaced the day after they retire, but a good mother is literally irreplaceable.

Let’s not sacrifice our largest influence (motherhood) for secondary gains (literally anything else). That looks different for different people and families, but the principle holds across them all.

I have heard the saying “The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world” for years, but I did not know it’s the title of a poem by William Ross Wallace. Here is the poem. Enjoy!

THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE IS THE HAND THAT RULES THE WORLD.

Blessing’s on the hand of women!

Angels guard its strength and grace.

In the palace, cottage, hovel,

Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,

Rainbows ever gently curled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,

Power may with beauty flow,

Mothers first to guide the streamlets,

From them souls unresting grow—

Grow on for the good or evil,

Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission,

Here upon our natal sod;

Keep—oh, keep the young heart open

Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages

Are from mother-love impearled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!

Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,

And the sacred song is mingled

With the worship in the sky—

Mingles where no tempest darkens,

Rainbows evermore are hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.