|
 Yellow
Cloud continues his story:
“The Coopers had been trying to get to the Territory before winter
so they could find a piece of land they liked in advance of the
giveaway the following spring. Having to stop for the baby hadn’t
changed Mr. Cooper’s plans, but folks around the valley encouraged
them to stay and stay they did. The entire town pitched in and fixed
up a little abandoned house on the edge of town. The miller gave Mr.
Cooper a job.
“One-by-one people from miles around came by to say hello and shower
the family with housewarming gifts and the child with love and
affection. One woman, claiming the child born in a stable put her in
mind of the baby Jesus, traveled from the far side of the
neighboring county to bring frankincense and myrrh.
“The golden-haired girl, whose cornflower blue eyes
were as bright as a summer sky, began to walk sooner than most. But
learning to speak was a different story. Early on her folks weren’t
too concerned, but as time went by they began to think her shyness
was a sign of a more serious problem. Then one day when Brings
Rain―the name I gave her―was six, her ma noticed the child playing
with a raccoon, both happily chittering away. When next I saw Mrs.
Cooper, she asked me if I thought it strange the way her daughter
took to critters. I told her it’s not unusual for a child of my
people to behave in
this manner, but I’d never seen nor heard of a white child with the
gift. I told Mrs.
Cooper, Rain would no doubt outgrow it. I was wrong.
“Annie. Do you know what a bee charmer is?”
Annie, squirming like she had bees in her britches, whispered, “No.”
“One day many moons later, Rain’s father came by the livery stable
wearing flour covered work clothes and a troubled expression. He
said he needed my help. I asked him what the problem was. He told me
his son and Annie had been playing in the meadow when a swarm of
bees alighted atop Rain’s head. The boy instinctively ran to fetch
his father. When Mr. Cooper arrived on the scene he froze in his
tracks: Rain was merrily dancing about, head totally enveloped in
bees. He yelled at her, and as she turned towards his voice, she
waved her arms and the bees took to the wing. He rushed to her side
and tried to embrace her, but she pulled away. He was amazed to
discover she hadn’t been stung. Then Mr. Cooper made the mistake of
telling her she was the strangest child in God’s creation. He
literally had to drag her home. Because of his impatience, Rain
withdrew more into herself. When he threatened to chase the critters
off the place if she didn’t start acting like a normal child, the
situation went from bad to worse. She then refused to eat with the
family, and instead chose to share her food with her animal friends.
Mr. Cooper was mighty disturbed. I told him I’d see what I could do.
[to top of second column]
 |
“Next day I went by the Cooper’s. I found Rain
sitting in an oak tree. I picked up a small acorn and tossed it up
to her; she caught it in her mouth. I asked her if she cared to take
a walk. She nodded. We headed toward the meadow, and as we walked I
hummed one of my people’s songs. We rested at the willow. Figuring
Rain would speak when the spirit moved her, I continued humming. She
joined me in my song. After a few minutes she tugged on my shirt,
and looking at me with sad eyes, said, ‘Yellow Cloud, my father
thinks I am not normal. What’s wrong with me?’
“I placed an arm around her small shoulders, hesitating for a moment
while gathering together the right words to answer so serious a
question: ‘Rain, your father is a good man, but there are things
about this life white men do not understand, same as there are
things about life red men do not understand. My people, the Lakota
Sioux, do not believe it is strange to communicate with creatures,
but I have never met a white person with such ability; this makes
you very special.”
“But why do the fury critters talk to me?” Rain asked.
“That,” I said, “is something only the Great Spirit knows. But I can
tell you this: I do not know if it will be tomorrow, or next year,
or when you are fully grown, but someday while you are walking near
the creek, or lying in the meadow looking at cloud formations, or
possibly while you are asleep dreaming, the answer will be revealed
and it will strike you like a thunderbolt.”
“Won’t that hurt?”
“No. No, my little wiyanna. It will give you energy.
life affirming energy. But in the meantime do not worry yourself
about such matters. Enjoy the gift and listen to what the animals
say, for their knowledge is very important, and when a bird settles
on your shoulder whisper tecihila.”
“What does tecihila mean?”
“That is Lakota for I love you. Rain, would you care to share with
me what the furry critters have told you?
“Rain, pulling closer, said, ‘They say they are not happy. They say
the pale-skins are devils intent on destroying nature and all her
beauty. They foul the water. Chop down the trees that many critters
call home. Food is scarcer. Families have lost all their members. A
wise old owl told them when you harm the Earth you harm yourselves,
but they must be stupid because they don’t listen.’ Then resting her
head on my shoulder, she began to weep.
“Neither of us spoke for a while, and then Rain asked if the
critters talk to me. I told her since I had given up Indian ways
animals no longer speak to me, but what they say is true. I told her
the Great Spirit tells us all life is sacred; everything is
connected; we are all brothers and sisters. The Lakota believe all
of creation sprouted from a single seed. I told Rain I sensed she
already possessed these truths in her heart and soul. On our way
back we again hummed old songs. The last thing I told Rain was we
are Lakota, which means friends.
[By Henry Dewes] |
