Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Autumn/Fall (08/27/09)
- TITLE: Melting Fear
By PamFord Davis
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She had much to be thankful for to the Great Spirit above. The missionaries told her about the Heavenly Father when she attended school in the distant village. Little Fawn wanted to hear the stories again and again! She always sensed there was a loving power all around her. He spoke through the wind and rain; and He painted the autumn leaves vibrant reds, yellow and orange. Daily she gazed on the falling brittle leaves and knew this brief lull in the seasons would end with the arrival of winter. She would not worry about those long frigid days and the food which becomes so scarce. Autumn brought such pleasure to her and the man she once feared. Their marriage arrangements were made by both families and she gave no objections. A dowry of six prize horses closed the deal; and she completed all tribal customs becoming his squaw.
When did fear melt and rushing currents of love fill her heart? Was it in a tender touch or an encouraging word? She could not say when or how, such feelings are not to be explained. It may have been in a passing glance or even in one of his silent moods. What did it matter? She loved every part of Soaring Hawk! With him near by, her heart and spirit soared! Moments ago she felt chilled and now perspiration beaded on her face and heaving chest. Love and desire raced through her trembling frail body. Would the new light of day bring her love back to her side? Sleep took her to a far away land of troubling dreams, filled with war drums and painted faces. Tossing and turning, she nearly rolled into the dying embers of her fire. Suddenly she awoke with a start and sat straight up. Was something wrong with Soaring Hawk? Was he in great danger? The hint of sunrise through the small opening at the top of her shelter gave her new hope. Each new day should be embraced! She rested her tender arms on the new life pulsing within. Each firm kick gave anticipation of a man child. Soaring Hawk’s pride of a son in the camp would be as a feather in his war bonnet!
Little Fawn stoked the fire and added fresh twigs to rekindle the dying flames. She must keep warm and eat to satisfy her gnawing hunger, and that of a growing child. Parched corn and berries were an easy meal; and the cool water from the stream seemed to travel through rolling rivers within. Refreshed, she opened the entrance way covering, to view the rising sun. The air felt crisp, with just enough chill to wake her fully. Reaching for more covering, she heard a sound in the distance. It might be a wolf, coyote, or deer. The sounds seemed to be getting louder… or was that her heart pounding in her ears? She now had no doubts; it was the sound of approaching horses, hooves stepping quickly on rough rocky terrain. She knew it could mean trouble or triumph. Enemies from other tribes and white settlements often attacked women left unattended! The braves could be returning home with fresh game and happy hunting stories. Excitement and fear battled within as a pack of wolves. Who would be the leader of the pack?
The sight of rising dust, stirred up by the rushing horses, began to fill the horizon. The gray mingled with the orange sunrise, creating a somber mood. The mystery would end soon. Horses would be coming up from the mountain ledge at any moment. My baby, Oh Great Spirit Father, protect my papoose!
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