The Hand That Rocks the Cradle: A Poem to Ponder

 My mom showed me this poem the other day and I absolutely fell in love with it, rereading it over and over again.  This poem is so true and shows the true job of mothers and the impact they have in the world.  For women, at least, and teenage girls (like me) trying to make an impact on the world, trying to make a difference, and trying to make better life.  Read this poem and just let it sink in.  

Blessings 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,

Mother’s 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.

-William Ross Wallace