Monday, November 5, 2012
Turn Around...a story
I come from the Cherokee Nation and was inspired by the words "Turn Around" to write the following story. It is based off of some truths but is mostly fictional on my part.
I should say this is also based off of the truth of the Trail of Tears or as my people say, The Trail We Cried On.
Believe me when I say, I respect my people and respect what happened to them and remember with them.
Please note: although right now I feel finished with the story as it is, I might in the future revamp it.
Peace-Naila Moon of the Grey Wolf
Turn Around By Michelle R. aka Naila Moon of the Grey Wolf
I tightly hugged the blanket that Grandfather, Winks At Rabbit, made for me. It was special and meant only for me to have. No one could possibly take this from me; I needed it as I would grow up to be woman.
Why did these men, these strangers want it? What would they do with it? I was not sure.
Sure enough, they took my blanket, ransacked our home and pushed us out the door. My mother, in native tongue begged them not to take us but yet, they did. Where were we going? Again, I was not sure.
It was cold out, for winter had already set it. We were given nothing and could take only little, which were mainly the clothes on our back. The old and the young were pushed together. Some had no shoes, some were separated from family and all were pushed forward. I did not have my blanket.
We were told that we would be going on a long journey, a journey of almost a thousand miles. This was a journey that would take us from our beloved lands, from our rivers, from our homes and from our ancestors. We were Cherokee and we would have to leave. We would have to walk and walk and walk.
We walked upon the trail that was supposed to lead us to a new place. A place supposedly reserved for us to live. A place that was not our own. Many of my people could not take this journey and thousands died. Grandfather, Winks At Rabbit was one of those, for he was very old. We could not stop to mourn him for if we did, we would also soon die.
I could not understand why we had to walk so far, why we had to starve. I asked my mother why we did not turn around and go back home. She could not tell me for I was young and would not understand.
So we kept walking and we cried.