When I Was Just a Little Girl

Another guest editorial from my daughter.  This time it’s from her blog, the Cafe Girl Chronicles.  I’d wish she’d go back to writing instead of pushing me.  

Photo credit: More Good Foundation via Foter.com / CC BY-NC

I used to think that one could only be “beamed” up to another place and time using a Star Trek transporter but I was wrong. Music has the ability to do that too. And I’m not talking about nostalgia or even memories – I’m talking about being moved to another dimension – in this case, my past.

The other day, while listening to Radio Canada in French (RDI), I happened to hear a song that instantly transported me back to my childhood. The song that did it? An old Gospel spiritual – “Dem Bones”, also known as “Dry Bones.” As I sang along, building Ezekiel’s skeleton one bone at a time I was suddenly nine years old again. I could see Mom sitting on the couch surrounded by four children (the other three wouldn’t arrive for a few more years). She was singing to us. Dem Bones.

My mother sang to us every night − either as a form of entertainment or as a way to get us to fall asleep − from her own version of The Great American Songbook.
These songs fill my head from time to time, a melody here, a familiar strain there, and I’m not talking nursery rhymes or “Wheels on the Bus.” No, Mom gave us rousing renditions of the songs that meant something to her, and each one of them came with a story.

“Que Sera, Sera” (Whatever Will Be, Will be)

“Mom, Mom?” we’d ask. What are we going to be? And she’d reel off a list of fantastic careers that left us slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

(You’ve Got) “That Magic Touch”

When she sang it, she substituted our last name for the word “magic”. It made it our song.


This song tells the story of a bad woman with a beautiful face. The woman with the beautiful face was her of course. As for the rest, she was nothing but good.

“Swinging on a Star”

We all asked for jars to catch moonbeams.

“He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”

The story or lesson here was you had better be nice to everyone.

“Sha boom Sha boom” (Life Could Be a Dream)
Mom called this the “happy song.” The first few bars are in a language we never understood, but were so fun to sing. Whenever I’m in a good mood I always sing this song.

“Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”

This was the song she reserved for the days the dog ate our homework or we failed to make the basketball team.

As I sang along to Dem Bones, I wondered how many mothers today sing to their children − real songs with special meanings that their children can carry with them for the rest of their lives, the songs they will call on when they are happy or sad, scared or spellbound. The ones they will still hear even when she’s no longer around to sing them.

Reprinted with permission. ©2011

Catherine’s comment – “Get back to work, mom!”

Mom’s comment – “See, I told you she was pushy!”



2 thoughts on “When I Was Just a Little Girl

  1. “Que sera sera” also brings back memories to me as my mom used to sing this song to me when I was little. All kinds of visions of things I might become also twirled in my head.

    In the last years of my mom’s life, I was the one who would sing it to my mom instead as I pushed her wheelchair along the corridor of her nursing home. On days when she didn’t recognize me when I came to visit, I would keep on singing this song until eventually she’d start singing some of the refrains (quite LOUDLY I might add). That’s when I knew I had brought her back to me so we could continue our visit together.

    Sadly, she’s gone now and sometimes, out of the blue, I catch myself singing the refrain out loud and I know that, once again, she’s keeping me company. This will always be a special song for me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s