Red Cloud's Kin

I've known him for over five years, yet I do not know his name. He is an imposing man, standing at about six foot two, muscular, and carries himself in the way of his people, the Sioux. I would guess him to be about 35 then, and his regal manner suggested that he was of a warrior lineage.

He speaks quietly, almost in a whisper. "Grandmother, I have come for your guidance. I am a great-grandson of Red Cloud, yet there is no member of my family with which I can discuss this matter. I have come a long way from my home at Pine Ridge to seek your help." A few years earlier, these words would have stunned me. But now that I know my path, I was happy that he had found me. He confessed to me that he had been unfaithful to his wife, a woman who loved him with every breath that she took. His soul needed cleansing, and he needed to talk about that which was so troubling to him. He followed me into the second room of the shop, and there he knelt -- as always -- facing East. As he offered up his prayers in his language, I covered him with the smoke from the blessed White Sage. I walked around him several times, making certain that he was filling his lungs with this cleansing smoke. He rose up, and then hugged me. That, in itself, was most unusual. Native American men will almost never touch a white woman. Yet here I was, being embraced by this man. He felt the energy from me, and whispered that "yes, he was in the right place."

We re-entered the main room of the shop, and he asked what he could do about his problem. Should he return home and tell his wife; should he return home and not say anything; or should he just continue on his journey through life without returning home. I asked if he had been blessed with children, and he replied that yes, he had two. A boy and a girl. I reminded him that children needed a male role model in their lives, and he answered that there were cousins who could fill that role. I asked him what he thought his wife would do, were he to tell her of his one time indiscretion. He admitted that she would be hurt, but that her heart was always full of forgiveness to all. I asked him if he was really ready to continue with his life alone, never to return to Pine Ridge. He didn't think he could abandon those who needed him.

He returned to Pine Ridge a few days later, and I did not hear from him for another two years. When he returned, he brought his family to meet me. His wife blessed me for helping him see the way, and his children now call me 'grandmother' too. Not yet in the way of one seeking help from a wiser person, but as the mother of their parents. And I am honored.