They talked all night and did not go to sleep until the sun came up. Most of the people were wondering where they were during the day. After Cricket in the Meadow and Sky woke up, there was more talking. Sky had learned a lot form her mother, and thanked her with tears in her eyes. She needed some air and time to think, so she went for a walk, with a very large buffalo robe wrapped around her, and extra coverings on her feet.
She walked along the paths the people made, towards the great forest, and around where the horses were kept, thinking about all that was said. She did not realize she had been angry with her husband-to-be. She was using this term now, in the Tsi language, not out of wishful thinking, but from a deep sense of knowing. Her mother had shown her that the anger she felt was destructive, and once she dealt with it, the insight came. She did love him, and was moved by him in a strange way.
There was so much to learn! Cricket in the Meadow, had never been given the title, “medicine woman”. The Tsi did not give titles like that, even though that’s what she was. All the people referred to her as a healer, and once in a while Sky heard the term, “one who sees”, but these were just practical terms. Everyone loved and respected Cricket in the Meadow. They all knew, she was the one to go to if someone was sick, or injured, or if there was grief in the heart. She always knew what to do, or what to say.
Last night, it was Sky’s turn. Cricket in the Meadow told her that one day she would be a healer, and a seer, but that it was not for Sky’s benefit this was happening. It was happening for the benefit of the people. It was the Creator’s way of taking care of the people. Cricket in the Meadow made it very clear that pride had no place in the life of a healer. The weight of these words weighed heavy on her.
As she walked through the herd of horses, they moved aside. She noticed their breath coming out and wondered how they could live out here in the extreme cold. Her own pony came up to her. He was a spotted one and she loved his coloring. She stroked his nose, and spoke quietly to him. She reached into a pouch and pulled out the wild carrots she had been saving. She fed him and closed her eyes to pray.
Could she do it? Could she learn everything about herbs, and their combinations so that they brought healing? Could she learn all about wounds, and how to keep away infections? All the women of the village knew how to sew up a wound, but no one knew how to like Cricket in the Meadow. No one knew how to clean a wound like she did. No one knew herbs like she did. And then there was the spiritual side, and prayer. There was so much to learn!
As she walked along the path, back towards the village, she was shocked to see her husband-to-be coming towards her. She was nervous, and her palms began sweating. As he drew close he said “Hello!”, and took her hands in his. Oh! Her heart was racing – how she loved him! But she knew this was her chance, so she took it. “You hurt me!” “You hurt me by pulling away, and by being so….so….polite!” “Why did you do this?!!”
He looked down, looking for words to say. He looked at her now, and said, “I didn’t want to get in the way of your healing”. “I didn’t want to be a distraction to you”. She was stunned. She had not thought of that. All she could say was, “Oh.” She realized now, he had cared about her the whole time.
Now it was his chance, so he took it. He was still holding her hands and said, “Sky you are so spiritual, and I am not!” “I’m just an average man”. He smiled and added, “But I am a great hunter!”, while pounding his chest. They both laughed, and this allowed them to talk freely. He whispered into her ear, and they both undid their buffalo robes, drew each other in close, and wrapped themselves in the robes like a single caterpillar in a cocoon. He could feel her heart beating. She whispered, “I love you too”, as the snow began to fall.
As they held each other, she had a vision of their wedding ceremony. It was spring then, and everything was green. Could they wait that long?
Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree