Talking Mouse

He came into the shop in the early afternoon. Rick was doing something, and I was building a dance bustle. We gave him our customary 'hi', and 'let us know if we can help'. I watched him as he wandered through the shop; reading here and there, and touching things. He went into the second room, and although I couldn't see him, I could easily feel his presence. I guessed him to be about 30, definitely Native American, and not someone I should be worried about. Rick left at about 3, and the young man was still there. He finally came up to the front counter, and we started talking. I learned that he was raised Paiute, had been adopted when he was a child, and was looking for his biological family among the Apache people. This would not be an easy task, since records among the native people are poor at best. Given that he 'believed' he had been born on the Apache reservation, near Sells, AZ, his task was daunting. We spoke for several hours, and he left.

About a year later, he returned to the shop. His first words on entering the shop were 'Grandmother, I seek your guidance'. I have been with Native people long enough to understand that I had just been honored. 'Grandmother' is a title of great respect, but I felt that I needed to remind this young man that I am Anglo. His response was that I was more Native American than I believed. Talking Mouse was having great problems in his life, and he needed to speak with me, so that I could direct him (as he put it). I had just had my session with Ron, so I knew what he was talking about. He told me of the problems he was having with his lady, how disappointed he was that he had not located his family, what it felt like to believe that he belonged to no nation, how many problems he was having in finding steady work. The list was almost endless. We dealt with each issue individually and when he left, he had decided to start over. The woman was an alcoholic and drug addict (which he certainly didn't need in his life), he realized that the Paiute family that raised him was his family, he understood that he did belong to a nation, the Paiute, and he knew that there were several jobs in the Wyoming area that he would qualify for. I wished him much luck and happiness on his journey.

He next appeared about eight months later. The smile on his face when he entered the shop told me that things were looking up for him. He had gone to Wyoming, and found a job that he loved, working on a ranch. He also told me that he had a special gift for me. He presented me with a Healer's Hoop. This is a braid of sweetgrass that has been tied at both ends to form a hoop. It is then wrapped in red cloth. He had added a feather to it which, he told me, he had held during a dance he performed at the Sun Dance that he had attended the week before. He had dedicated that dance to me. I did not have, nor do I now have, words to describe the emotions that ran through me at that moment. I had never felt so honored. I own many things, some of which are quite valuable, but this simple hoop is my most prized possession.

Talking Mouse had to leave quickly, but he told me that he would be e-mailing me a copy of his journal. I looked forward to receiving it. Basically, I thought, it would give me greater insight into this young man. The journal arrived, and I started reading. It started in 1987, and somewhere during 1992 he had written that he must seek out White Buffalo Woman in Kingman, AZ. I did not move to Kingman until September, 1994, and he found me in 2001. He knew I was coming!