can go to other times. You can visit family and friends long since
passed, and know that love never dies. You can leave this harsh place
and go where it is always sunny, always warm, and always green.
Close your eyes and you will see it. Listen carefully and you will
hear it. Reach with your mind and you will feel it. Let your being
melt into mother earth and you will be there.
The summer breeze gently rustles the leaves of the Oak and the sacred
Sourwood, and if you breathe in, oh so softly, you may smell a trace of
cedar floating like a spirit on the wind. In an instant you are there.
For an enternity you are home.
Be very still, listen, and know........I am.
I love waking up in the morning. It is my favorite time of the day. Before I
I am thankful for each beautiful day in this life. I ask my creator for guidance that
Finishing my prayer I roll over on my back. I sleep in the main room near the
I have a feather tick pallet that lies on the floor which is very comfortable. I
................To be continued.................
open my eyes, I open my heart and give thanks to Tsa-ne-la-nv-hi, the one who
created all things. I am thankful for so many things, but especially for my parents,
my grandmother, my four sisters, and my dog - Blue.
I may walk this circle of life for the joy and beauty of all living things. I ask that
all people be kind to Mother Earth and love her. I ask that we show love and
respect to all of our relations. Finally, I ask that I have good luck fishing today.
fireplace and the stack of wood. My sisters sleep in the loft. I like falling asleep
to the soft hissing of the burning oak. The glow of the embers puts off a soft
yellow light, just enough to see and yet, I can fall asleep easily. There is nothing
like the smell of burning oak and the warmth that comes from a good fire. Last
year I helped my father gather our winter store of wood. This year I will help cut
and split the wood that we will use next winter. I am big enough now to help my
father do many things.
also have a very warm blanket that my father gave me. He told me that the cloth is
called "wul". He traded tobacco for it with some strangers in a far away village.
He told me that this "wul" comes from a four legged, called a sheep. I am not
sure I believe that story. My father is known for many stories. Folding my hands
under my head, I stare up at the ceiling. It feels good to just lie here and listen to
the silence. Even in silence I hear many things. The coals in the fireplace sing
a faint sizzle with and occasional pop as if to say that someone had better put some
more wood on pretty soon before it is too late. I can her Blue's rhythmic
breathing as he lies next to me. It may sound funny, but even the silence has a
sound of its own. The morning silence is different than the silence of the night.
Only in the morning silence can I hear the quiet ringing in my ears. In the dim
light I can barely make out the beams with their clumps of vegetables hanging
from hooks like raspberries on the bush. Taking in a deep breath I catch the faint
trace of cedar on the air. Grandmother must be awake. She is always the last one
to sleep at night and the first one up in the morning. Sometimes I think that maybe
she doesn't even sleep at all. A smile crosses my face because I know that she is
saying her prayers also. It makes me feel good to say my prayers at the same time
as Grandmother. Grandmother is the Ghi-gau, Beloved Woman, of our village.
She teaches me the old ways. She says it is very important not to lose the old
traditions. They make us who we are.
Get your own Free Home Page