A river of drum music flowed through the air as I wandered the grounds. It had such a familiar warmth to its current. I knew its twists and turns and the smiles on the drummers faces as they navigated its current told me to expect a pleasant late summers afternoon. Old, familiar sights and sounds, I missed this school. I missed the kids who came in wide eyed, trying to make sense of why they had to be there. I missed shooting hoops on that playground as kids escape their parents and the smell of fry bread drifts past the climbing toy. Booths of all things native lined the walkway. Looking for beads I wandered aimlessly. Part of the time checking out the merchandise, part of the time just watching people. I saw familiar faces, family connections. I saw grandmothers with grandchildren and teenagers working with their families. And I saw dancers as they begin their journey on the pow wow floor. Children being celebrated by the rest of the tribe. A booth caught my eye, hand drums and rattles. Two women in light gentleness chatted happily together, visiting with customers as family. I was taken in as memories of closeness with my own sisters were called to mind. Some of the drums were painted beautifully and while admiring one, a young man came up to the side table and studying the drums, his fingers rapping out a song. His eyes hidden by sun glasses. Oh, please play for us, I hear a song that wants to come out. Are you willing to share it one of the sisters asked. But he shied, embarrassed that he had been caught in that soulful moment when his desire was noticed. Shaking his head he declined, to which she said, The song is waiting, it is right there, go ahead. There is no reason to hold it in. We will join you in prayer, it would be such a blessing if you shared it. He looked back and forth at the two, then he looked at me. I can leave if you like, I said without thinking. Perhaps I picked up on his hesitancy. Or maybe I was hesitant, feeling keenly my separateness. But without missing a beat the other woman said, No stay and join us. I looked at him and he returned my steady gaze, studying me behind those glasses. Then we three closed our eyes and in pregnant pause waited. Softly he started to drum, His rhythm and control surprised me, he was no stranger to song. Beginning to sing, his voice was clear and pure. Sadness was in the song but passion and strength grew as he moved through it and I found that even though the words were foreign, my eyes teared over for the power of it. In prayer with head bowed I was taken on a journey to understanding. In prayer the young man opened his heart and in prayer, we three supported him, nurtured him and celebrated him. And so it is that in prayer I received a most wonderful gift today. The gift of connection, of being a part of the bigger picture. I was blessed in being accepted as an elder who supported the soul of one young man who was forgetting who he was, but with shiny eyes and head high he left remembering. To all the Thomass out there, please play for us, the song is asking to come out and we would love to hear it. Let us support you in this prayer, this song of your soul. We are so glad you are here~
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 04:41:28 +0000
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