|Image courtesy of Jill Clardy|
“So I dressed myself in a sacred manner, and I went among the people who were standing around the withered tree.
Good Thunder, who was a relative of my father and later married my mother, put his arms around me…and…he offered up a prayer for me. He said: “Father, great Spirit, behold this boy! Your ways he shall see!”
Then be began to cry….I raised my face up to keep [the tears] back, but they came out just the same. I cried with my whole heart, and while I cried I thought of my people in despair. I thought of my vision and how it was promised me that my people would have a place on this earth where they could be happy every day.
I thought of them on the wrong road now, but maybe they could be brought back into the hoop again and to the good road…. I danced….By now I was crazy to kill, and I said to Protector: “Help me on my horse! Let me go over there. It is a good day to die, so I will go over there!” But Protector said: “No….Your people need you. There may be a better day to die”.”
Storytelling and truth are interconnected and it is with the utmost trust that I receive the tales from those who have walked a different path. Share with me your story. I will hold it gently with my heart. Ours will be a sacred space.