The hand that rocks the cradle...

While I have no desire to “rule the world”, it is so important to remember how high a calling is motherhood. Sometimes it is easy to get bogged down in the day-to-day cares and responsibilities of being a mother, and forget that we are shaping lives that will someday shape nations.

The Hand That Rules the World

Infancy, the tender fountain,

Ever may with beauty flow;
Mother’s first to guide the streamlets;
From them souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or darkness hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Mother, 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 mother!
Fathers, sons and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingled where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.