My little star @Theladyofwisdommusic скачать в хорошем качестве

My little star @Theladyofwisdommusic

I didn’t write the song for a stage, or a studio, or an audience. I wrote it in the quiet hours—when the house was dark, and the world felt far away. It was born in those moments when my babies were so small they fit perfectly against my chest. Their breaths were soft and uneven, their tiny fingers curled into my shirt as if I was the safest place on earth—because to them, I was. I would rock back and forth in the dim glow of a nightlight, the room humming with stillness. No music playing. No polished melody. Just my voice—low, tender, a little tired, but full of love. The song came out slowly, almost whispered, as if I was afraid to wake the stars. I sang it when their eyes wouldn’t close. I sang it when tears came for no clear reason. I sang it when the night felt long and motherhood felt heavy, and love felt bigger than my own strength. Each word was a promise I didn’t even know I was making yet. A promise of safety. A promise of presence. A promise that no matter how hard life became, they were never alone. Their breathing would soften as the melody wrapped around them. Tiny chests rising and falling in time with my heartbeat. Sometimes I’d repeat the same line again and again, not because it was written that way—but because love doesn’t rush, and neither does a lullaby. That was when the song was first written—not on paper, but into memory. Into their earliest sense of peace. Into my own heart. Years passed. The babies grew. The nights changed. But the song stayed. Every time it’s sung now, it still carries those midnight hours, those rocking-chair moments, those soft beginnings. It still knows the weight of a sleeping child and the quiet courage of a mother who sang love into the dark. That’s when the song was born, honey. Not as music— but as love with a melody. #star #baby #Lullaby #lullaby-music #singing