e-li-si
The sun is starting to go down. The trail twists and turns up the flat, bald bluff. I have not been able to move. My legs can no longer lay in the position I have been in for all these days.
I see ahead people and some type of dwellings. I will just be glad to walk my legs cramp into painful knots.
Our wagon approaches the small group of dwellings, a rider approaches us.
I hear Cherokee words but not of my own clan.
The rider asks "A-ni-gi-lo-gi?" (Panther clan?) "I do not know" the elder of the wagon replies "these do not have sense" I say "ho-ga-wi-nihl-i-d" (I know your language) a face I do not know looks into the wagon. He says "Ho-ani-wi-di" (I am of the Paint clan) I begin to cry I cannot help myself the Paint clan often came to Black Mountain.
The man of the Paint clan says that the captive catchers have left riding east toward "yo-wa-ne-gv" (Arkansas).
He tells the elder that many do not want to stay here there is so much work to be done.
He points to a large Army tent without sides saying "a-ni-tsa-lagi-dhi-so-hi" (council house).
As the wagon pulls up I smell bread baking for the first time in over a year.
I climb down from the wagon my legs give way I fall to the ground I am picked up by gentle hands and carried into the tent to a long board table with benches "e-li-si" (another's Grandmother) sits with a group of small children she is encouraging the children to eat they are thin their eyes look haunted. She offers me a cup of the barley soup saying nothing..
She begins to softly croon a lullaby "na-da-le-na" (lets begin) she croons this many times in almost a whisper. She holds a cup up to her mouth crooning "na-de-le-na" to get them to take their cup's to their lips. When one does she smiles with her eye's to the group, she pats their skin stretched over bones.. "s-ge go-liy e-li-si" (listen know I am am Grandmother) she adds to the soft whisper lullaby her eyes meet mine she says "tsa-da-li-ga-du" (do you want bread?) I can only nod yes.
As the warm broth and bread reaches my stomach I have sharp pain wracking my insides she tells me "da-ga-na-n" (it is going to rain) go over to the pile of quilts and rest.
This night I hear the rain of the prairie pelting the tent smell of wet canvas, barley broth and bread I snuggle my aching body down into the quilts drifting off and on into sleep, I often wake up to look making sure where I am.
I see the soft glow of the lanterns hearing the language of my people, speaking words of encouragement to those that come to drink broth.
The next morning the childrens voices wake me, they do not play and sing they are still dull eyed crying for their parents then I hear them ask for "e-li-si" (Grandmother)
There is now another "e-li-si" to comfort and see to their feeding. I am offered bread, which I accept.
This grandmother woman tells me later this day Elders of the clan wish to meet me to see if any of my own clan survived.
There is to be a ceremony making the Union of Eastern and Western Cherokee at the council house now being built. In 5 days July 12,1839.
Sequoyah, is near Tahlequah with clan leaders deciding how best to go about making this place the main one for all 5 of what is to become the 5 Civilized Tribes Choctaw, Chickasaw, Muskogee, Seminole and Cherokee.
My problems are of small importance in comparison . The "e-li-si" with the children asks of me what I would want to do to be helpful.
I tell her "my only talent besides housework which I do not like is that of my beloved Mother she was a seamstress I sew very well" I have no thread, scissors or needles they were taken as the march started. The reason given was they could be used as weapons.
I am told to take the small girl children to the bath house it is small building with a tower and large tank. I am used to steam baths or pot bathing, getting water from a stream the only other bath like this ended in disaster.
I disrobe and point to these small girls to do the same. They look in amazement at this room of water, I pull a chain and one by one wash their hair and bodies, they know not of this it is like rain to them.
Clothing has been donated by settlers for the children. Each child has been given a skirt and blouse.
I comb and braid each girl childs hair .
We return to the large tent with the stove and table with benches Another "e-li -si" (anothers grandmother) points to the benches at the table.
She ask me to sing to the children I tell her "I have no song in this heart" she starts to softly croon to them "tsi-la-do-o-o -s-gi" (falling flowers) their eyes still do not smile although they watch her. She tells me of a creek not far where the women are washing clothing. I am pointed that direction.
As I start to leave the face I saw last night while still in the wagon enters.
He has in his outstretched hand a small pine needle sewing basket he offers it to me. I feel my eyes widen he says "many of ours that did not survive the torture trail had things in their wagon that now are stored under lock and key" my mind wonders how he knew I sewed.
I open this basket and inside there are scissors, thread, needles and a shiny thimble!
I do not understand all our sewing tools had been taken, he tells me that those things are issued by the government.
How I hate to take anything from those who tortured and killed so many, but my joy for this pine needle basket is stronger than I ever expected. I have the tears of joy like a child on my face.
Now I could earn my way in this strange place.
I feel A-wi-as spirit near me in this tent of canvas in this Indian Nation..