I moved into my Grandmothers farmhouse when I was six years old. I arrived at her doorsteps with a small suitcase, a bag of toys, and all the other valuable belongings a young girl possess.
But there was more, an invisible baggage nobody could see had moved with me. The early years with my parents had left some scars. I didn’t sleep well, had nightmares and felt insecure in my bed, and in my room.
I feared the nights, that’s when they had been yelling and screaming, that’s when they had smelled funny, that’s when I had been scared the most. The monsters of alcoholism had moved with me, they came out and showed their ugly faces at night when I was alone.
The memories haunted me for a while until I got a little dog. It wasn’t a real dog, it was a stuffed animal with a wind-up key.
Every night, when I went to bed my Grandmother came into my room, told me a story and when she left, she turned out the light and let the little dog playe its music.
I could see it from my bed, and I listened to the melody, not knowing what it said, not knowing that it was an old lullaby. Later on, I learned the words of the song, and often I lay in bed and sung with the little dog.
“Guten Abend, Gute Nacht/Good evening, good night”
(Literal English Version)
Good evening, good night,
With roses covered,
With cloves adorned,
Slip under the covers.
Tomorrow morning, if God wills,
you will wake once again.
Good evening, good night.
By angels watched,
Who show you in your dream
the Christ-child’s tree.
Sleep now blissfully and sweetly,
see the paradise in your dream.
It gave me the peace I needed. Listening to the song made me feel safe, and I fell asleep. The little dog and its music helped me to sleep without nightmares until I got older; until I learned to deal with my past and the bad dreams in a different way.
To this day I hold a soft spot for the melody in my heart.