Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Painted Pony Chapter Two


Our story now continues...
 
She wasn't prepared, how could she have been, it had been so long since she had been involved with her roots, except  for her belief in the powers of her holistic health, of course that was based on native traditions of well-being and healing.

Seven gray heads sang and drummed in the rhythm of her heart beat. She felt the tug from her youth. The painted pony grazed in the lush grass behind the council fire, undisturbed, peaceful, apparently satisfied that she had done her task. 

Jamie saw now that task was meant to bring her home. All she needed to know was why? Her grandfather motioned for her to join them. A spot had been left for her to sit, the ribbon shirt Nokomis had made her for graduation from high school waited for her as well as white deer skin moccasins. Jamie slid silently from Daisy's back and allowed the horse to back away. Daisy wouldn't go far as long as there was good grass for her to feast on. Jamie allowed the horse's reins to slip from her grasp, and then allowed thoughts of the horse to slip from her mind as she moved toward the council fire circle.  

Picking up the ribbon shirt, Jamie pulled the shirt over her head and dipped her toes into the cool, supple, tanned leather of the moccasins. She quietly took her position in the circle between her father and grandfather. It was an honor and privilege to be included here. She knew instinctively something powerful had been given her by this inclusion, but it was going to come with a price. What mission would she be asked to begin? Was she enough for the challenge?

Why this council of elders invited her pulled questions in her mind, as well as, the thought of the distressed child—where was she? Or he, but Jamie knew it wasn't a male child. How she knew that she couldn't understand, but that she knew that the cry was female that was certain in her mind. There was no sign of her now. Unless…Was she that missing girl child? Was the summons her own voice calling her home? She let the drum center her as she allowed her worrisome thoughts to disappear in the smoke of the council fire, rising for the Great Spirit to dispense with.

Slowly, Jamie focused on each face around the council fire. Most of them she remembered seeing before. Current and long ago they had traveled that strawberry path to the beyond; members of high honor in the Lakota Sioux tribe sat singing in powerful but soft voices. Remembering what the words meant came as easily as if she had been at her last pow wow yesterday instead of years ago.

She knew she was summoned and she knew the reason would be apparent soon, but Jamie needed the patience she had allowed to be stolen from her by the hurried world of city life. It had eroded from her being like the banks of a river. Sometimes the traditional ways infuriated her, but there was no rushing the elders. "Mistakes are made in a hurry; haste makes waste; race to error, repent in leisure."  The words tumbled from her mind as if spoken by the elders now observing her.

When the drums grew silent and the singing faded away, peaceful silence enveloped the gathering before Chief Lone Feather spoke. His voice crackled with age as he began but soon gathered an even resonate timber, a melodious cadence warmed his words as he spoke. Jamie sensed the graveness of the meeting the council was to address. The message soon found its way to his voice. Tribal values, ties to the Great Spirit and Mother Earth begged for intervention. The Chief's comments were directed toward her. The challenge was hers. As daughter of a lineage of chiefs, the council was convened for her and needed her help –with what? She knew her answer was in the troubled faces of the elders. She felt so small and inadequate. She straightened her shoulders and spine. If she was called, she must, if she could, give whatever it took to help her people.

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