When I was small, my parents would read and sing to me before I went to sleep every night. I think that these simple things have truly played a part in who I am today. I love to read because I was read to. As early as three years old, I was told the stories of Bilbo Baggins and the Pevensie children. Dad would tell me stories as well, and you could tell when he was falling asleep because they would get really weird.
The songs were my favorite. I remember asking for "just one more." I know that both parents performed this nighttime rituals with me, but for some reason my dad's lullabies stick out the most to me. He sang Stay Awake from Mary Poppins, and Silas Stingy, which I recently found out is the Who. I remember him singing the hymn Come Come Ye Saints, which I knew as Come Ye Come Ye Saints. The Sunday before Pioneer Day, we sang this hymn as a congregational "special number." This means that there were readings in between verses and the men and women sang verses seperate and then all together at the end. Now, some may think this cheesey, and it probably was, but it moved me to tears. I thought about my pioneer ancestors crossing the plains, and I remembered my dad, singing me to sleep.