Giving Thanks: Cradles of Babies

When the family found out they were going to have a baby, they were all very excited.  

"But where will the baby sleep?" Father asked.  "What we need is a cradle."  That night Father started to build a cradle.  Carefully he measured and he sawed and he hammered.  While he planed the boards and sanded them smooth, Father thought about the ships rocking gently at sea.  He thought about birds rocking gently in their nests at the top of tall trees.  After many days and nights at work, Father finally finished building the cradle.  He stood back to admire it.  The cradle looked solid and sturdy.  It looked so sturdy, Father climbed in.  There in the cradle, Father rocked gently back and forth.  He rested within the smooth, sanded wood.  And he slept just like a baby.

Just Like a Baby by Rebecca Bond

When I was young (2 or 3), my father worked hard to make matching cradles for my sister and me.  My sister's met an untimely death when a male playmate threw it down the stairs.  Mine was used for many years, including some pathetic episodes when we forced our miniature schnauzer into a dress and bonnet and tried to rock him (if a dog could look embarrassed, he did), and then sat discarded in my parent's attic until Josie came along.  Now I find an assortment of stuffed animals and dolls in it, but today she decided it was the perfect spot to nap.  And she slept, just like a baby.