Our paths crossing is not a mistake. Though our Grandmothers could not
know which flowers we would pick or which stones would make us stumble,
our Creator surely did. Creator knew of the tree that would provide
shade and the lake that would wet hair. Creator knew of the dog that
would lick our face.
I am young and do not know many things, but this I know--our paths
crossing is not a mistake. It took many wars and much bloodshed so
that we might meet. Our Grandmothers and their Grandmothers bore much
pain, shed many tears, and called out to their children in the forest
many times so that our paths might cross. Our Grandfathers walked many
miles, so many miles. They prayed and they dreamed so that we might
meet. The turkeys called in the spring, and the crows danced on the
fall winds so that we might speak. The people pushed on, even though
they were cold and hungry, so that we might be together. They knew
not who we were, yet they moved forward for our benefit. And the
little people did their jobs well. They placed the sticks and stones
and feathers where they were supposed to so that we might pick them up,
so that we might think and pray and dream.
And so now, after many years and many Grandmother and many wars, we
meet. And you ask, "Who are you?" I am your sister. The one that
you Granmothers died for and for whom may wars were fought. I am the
one that was led to you by so many sticks, stones, and feathers. I am
the one who will walk and cry and pray and fight so that they might
And still you ask, "Who are you? You are a stranger to me." I am the
one who was born and raised and brought up by my parents so that our
paths might cross. I am the one who learned to fish and hunt and who
cried at my brother's burial so that we might speak. But still you do
not recognize me. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps they were wrong. Perhaps
we should not smile or say hello while passing. Perhaps all those
wars and prayers and dreams and tears were not so that we might meet.
But my Grandparents spoke of you and they were honorable people. They
would not waste all of those wars and prayers and dreams and tears if
we were not meant to meet. They did not know which flowers we would
pick or which stones would make us stumble, but they knew that our paths
would cross. I am young and do not know many things but this I know--
our paths crossing is not a mistake.
The stones do not always recognize the water rushing over them, but they
know that it is not a mistake. Our paths have crossed for a reason, a
reason Creator knows of. We must now find our why, and in doing so,
ensure that their paths will also cross. This I know.
Horse Follow Closely