Why I Sing a Marian Lullaby

Emily Jerger shares how one tradition from her time in religious life carries over into her life as a mom. 

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I was discerning religious life. After graduating from college, I worked for a year in a parish while continuing to feel drawn to a particular community of sisters. During that year, after visiting them several times, I realized I needed to give religious life a try, so I decided not to renew my contract at the parish.    

There were a few significant steps in my journey as a religious sister. I still remember the moment before deciding to enter the novitiate. We had to commit ourselves to living a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In committing oneself to chastity, the practical side of things meant renouncing the possibility of becoming a mother. I admittedly hesitated.   

Interestingly enough, in due time God led me out of the convent and into marriage. While marriage was not what I expected, I am so very grateful. It was where I was meant to be. I have found greater peace in my vocation as a wife and mother, even if I sometimes miss the many beautiful traditions and practices from my time in religious life.  

I have heard it say that with God, nothing is wasted. This certainly seems true of my time as a sister. I often find myself drawing from my experiences in the convent as I navigate the new territory of being a mom.  

A Beautiful Tradition of Singing to Mary 

One of the things I loved about my time in religious life was night prayer in the chapel, ending in singing the Salve Regina. There was something so peaceful about entrusting everything into the hands of our loving Mother before retiring for the night. I loved the quiet glow of the candles. I loved the sprinkling with holy water. Come to think of it now, I loved the feeling of “being tucked in” at night by Our Lady, although I never would have said it like that back then. 

Now I find myself standing before my son’s crib. I marvel at how the stars on his crib sheet match the stars in the portrait of Our Lady of Guadalupe, sitting on his dresser and looking over him just above. I begin the song I love to sing at night, “Nous te saluons, ô Toi Notre Dame….”  I sing in French my sweet lullaby, a hymn to Mary and a nod to my formation as a religious sister in France.   

While my baby may not quite be ready to drift off to sleep, my soul feels more peaceful ... complete. Everything is in her hands.   

When I hear his cry in the middle of the night and go to fetch a bottle, these moments remind me of the vigils we used to pray in the middle of the night. They become moments of keeping vigil with Mary. I need the reminder of her presence, especially when fatigue sets in. “Hail Mary, full of grace….” I sing a few beads of the Rosary and breathe with the rhythm of song. My voice and heartbeat create a rhythm of safety and security for my little boy as he drifts back to sleep.   

Imagining Mary Singing to Jesus  

I wonder how often Mary would sing to Jesus when He was in her arms? Would she sing the Psalms of Israel or repeat her Magnificat? Would she make up a new song to the Lord, inspired by the Holy Spirit who stirred within her? We may never know this side of Heaven, but our imagination can fill in the gaps.  

One day, I hope my song will blossom into my son’s love for Mary. I hope that as words begin to form on his lips, he will learn to invoke her name. My sweet boy is already connected to Mary in so many ways. He was an answer to prayer after a novena to Our Lady of Champion, and my husband and I were even able to visit her shrine, just north of Green Bay, WI on the day he was born.  

Knowing that my motherhood is a gift from her is an extra consolation. So I happily sing my nighttime lullaby in gratitude to Mary: “Nous te saluons, ô Toi Notre Dame….” 

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Copyright 2025 Emily Jerger
Images: (top, bottom) copyright 2025 Emily Jerger, all rights reserved; (center) Canva