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Rated: E · Short Story · Spiritual · #1485534
A short spiritual story about the naming of a child by the Shaman
The women sang with thanks and the children ran across the lush green valley to meet the party of men carrying their prize. They had paid homage for the life that the stag had given so that they could feed and nourish their families. They only took from the land what they needed and always gave back in thanks. The young Indian walked over to his heavily pregnant wife and embraced her as they walked into their tepee lush with furs and fresh wild flowers.
The shaman watched from a distance then turned and stared into the crackling fire through old wise eyes.
The eagle soared from the body of the shaman and up into the clear blue sky. With the warmth of the sun on his feathers and the soft breeze on his wings, he floated easily up over the rich green fields and endless gigantic forests. He glided over rippling streams and cascading rivers and then high over the mountains.
He came across a village of grey concrete and stone and saw men digging deep into the bones and the bowls of the earth. Mechanical monsters driven by fluid pumped up from the earth drove back and forth on huge gigantic wheels,. They pulled and tore and stripped the trees and earth that were once part of the great forest and bellows of thick grey smoke spewed into the air.
The eagle flew over villages and cities with bright piercing lights and deafening noises , shouts and screams, honking of horns and a black shroud of smoke hung over the land.
He flew over colossal iron railroads with metal wagons, pulling one after the other in streams as solid black smoke rose upwards, and the eagle heard the earth sigh.
The eagle was drawn to a light from a big building on the edge of the city and came to rest on a ledge outside a window. Through the thick glass he could see a woman laid in a large bed and a man sat beside her. The room was lavishly decorated with gold and lush coloured fabrics adorned the ceilings and walls. But, over in one corner the eagle saw a tiny newborn baby wrapped in silk, crying and a tear fell from the eagles eye. This was the free world.
The eagle soared back up into the velvet black sky, the stars twinkled and the shimmering moon cast its light over the land.
He flew back over the mountains, rivers, forests and streams and back to the small clearing. He floated back down and melded back with the soul of the shaman.
The shaman slowly opened his eyes, he turned and smiled as he heard the whimpering of the newborn. He slowly walked into the home and took the child from the arms of the smiling mother. Outside he lay the child on the ground and delicately covered the lower half of the body with moss to keep her warm. He took a handful of warm soft earth and sprinkled it over the child and gave thanks to Mother Earth for the greatest gift, the gift of life.
He then took the sleeping newborn child into his arms and walked over to the fire. He looked up at the sky and said ‘Great Father, this is your newest child, and her name is ‘Freedom’ and the women sang.
© Copyright 2008 Georgie Blue (arowana at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1485534-The-Shaman-and-Freedom