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It is strange to remember that I had no possessions, nothing to take with me if I left my home with Jula and Hofel and the others. I had my fur lined dress which was made like a simple tunic, and I had my little skin boots. I had no toys, nor tools. I was equipped as nearly like an animal as a human being can be who is not utterly naked.
If the
Nomads adopted me I would be coming to them as nearly bare as a newborn child
of their own. I had no awareness of my own poverty. Even clothing was newfound
and luxurious to me. But I would be coming to them full up with love.
I really have no idea how old I was truly, but I think I must have been between three and four years old. I was small for my age I believe. So, Jula was still tucking me into my basket at night as if I were a baby, and of course to one her size, I was a very small baby!
That night I asked her about her own children. I wondered where they were. I said, “Jula, did you have children before?” She looked a little surprised, but smiled and said, “yes, dear, I had three children.”
“But where are they Jula?” I wondered aloud.
“They grew up Soosha. Then they left me. Two were girls, who found fathers for their children. One was a boy. He is with a band further north from here. He found a mother for his children in that family band. I talk to all of them, but not face to face, dear heart.”
“Do you still love them Jula?” I asked her.
“Yes, I love them Soosha. They mean life to me. They are in my heart when I breathe, when I eat, or work or walk. Always there. When I open my eyes in the morning, I think of them. I think of you too. To be a mother means to always think of the children. A mother is never alone in her thoughts,” she said softly. “They are the last thing in my mind when I close my eyes to sleep.”
I think of her standing there, at her great height, as the sky darkened, and night fell on our mountain. She was a tall dark figure, soft and brown and very dear to me. Perhaps a tear fell. I am not sure. But I do know that she took a wild little human creature and taught her to speak and to be truly human. Nothing that happened in the future could ever change or take away what she had done for me.
“Jula, why did you love me,” I asked as I became sleepy lying in my fur lined nest. “I didn’t come to you like your children did.”
“I loved you because you needed to be loved. I loved you because love is why I live,” she said. I didn’t understand at the time. But I recall what she said.
“Do children always leave,” I asked.
“Almost always,” she said. “But Hofel and the others are here, and that is a very good thing, isn’t it my dear?”
“Yes, Jula,” I said.
As usual, night passed without my awareness of its passing. When I opened my eyes the sun was just lightening the sky. I lay in comfort listening to the first morning birdcalls, and wondering what the day would bring.
That morning, after a little breakfast of cold meat and a drink of water, Jula and I prepared to walk to the river camp again. Each person in our band held me for a moment because they didn’t know if I would come back or not. I didn’t know either and it seemed like a serious time for all of us. Put kissed me on top of my head. She cried a little.
As we walked away, I looked back at the forest camp. The stone floor, the mighty trees close together, and the figures of those I loved watching us as we left. It was an image that stayed with me always. It was not the last time I saw them, but this was the picture in my mind when I thought of them.
There was still fog over the river and the meadow as we approached the Nomad tipis. The black and white dog ran out to us, barking and wagging his tail. It seemed like a fine welcome and a very good sign.
I really have no idea how old I was truly, but I think I must have been between three and four years old. I was small for my age I believe. So, Jula was still tucking me into my basket at night as if I were a baby, and of course to one her size, I was a very small baby!
That night I asked her about her own children. I wondered where they were. I said, “Jula, did you have children before?” She looked a little surprised, but smiled and said, “yes, dear, I had three children.”
“But where are they Jula?” I wondered aloud.
“They grew up Soosha. Then they left me. Two were girls, who found fathers for their children. One was a boy. He is with a band further north from here. He found a mother for his children in that family band. I talk to all of them, but not face to face, dear heart.”
“Do you still love them Jula?” I asked her.
“Yes, I love them Soosha. They mean life to me. They are in my heart when I breathe, when I eat, or work or walk. Always there. When I open my eyes in the morning, I think of them. I think of you too. To be a mother means to always think of the children. A mother is never alone in her thoughts,” she said softly. “They are the last thing in my mind when I close my eyes to sleep.”
I think of her standing there, at her great height, as the sky darkened, and night fell on our mountain. She was a tall dark figure, soft and brown and very dear to me. Perhaps a tear fell. I am not sure. But I do know that she took a wild little human creature and taught her to speak and to be truly human. Nothing that happened in the future could ever change or take away what she had done for me.
“Jula, why did you love me,” I asked as I became sleepy lying in my fur lined nest. “I didn’t come to you like your children did.”
“I loved you because you needed to be loved. I loved you because love is why I live,” she said. I didn’t understand at the time. But I recall what she said.
“Do children always leave,” I asked.
“Almost always,” she said. “But Hofel and the others are here, and that is a very good thing, isn’t it my dear?”
“Yes, Jula,” I said.
As usual, night passed without my awareness of its passing. When I opened my eyes the sun was just lightening the sky. I lay in comfort listening to the first morning birdcalls, and wondering what the day would bring.
That morning, after a little breakfast of cold meat and a drink of water, Jula and I prepared to walk to the river camp again. Each person in our band held me for a moment because they didn’t know if I would come back or not. I didn’t know either and it seemed like a serious time for all of us. Put kissed me on top of my head. She cried a little.
As we walked away, I looked back at the forest camp. The stone floor, the mighty trees close together, and the figures of those I loved watching us as we left. It was an image that stayed with me always. It was not the last time I saw them, but this was the picture in my mind when I thought of them.
There was still fog over the river and the meadow as we approached the Nomad tipis. The black and white dog ran out to us, barking and wagging his tail. It seemed like a fine welcome and a very good sign.
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