Page 20 of Forsaken

“You’re Native American?” I asked.

“I’m half Native American…on my mother’s side. My father was white…or at least my mother thinks he was.”

I didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice and I knew I was treading perilously close to a sensitive subject so I resisted asking the question I really wanted to and said, “Would you say them in English?”

Mav hesitated for so long that I was tempted to take back the question, but I held my tongue as he seemed to physically brace himself. His voice was rich and deep as he spoke, but I didn’t miss the pained tone.

“Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds.

And whose breath gives life to all the world.

Hear me! I am small and weak.

I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes

Ever hold the red and purple sunset.

Make my hands respect the things you have made.

My ears sharp to hear your voice.

Make me wise so that I may understand

The things you might teach me.

Let me learn the lessons you have hidden

In every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother.

But to fight my greatest enemy, myself.

Make me always ready to come to you

With clear hands and straight eyes.

So when life fades, as the fading sunset.

My spirit may come to you without shame.”

Once he was done, Mav refused to look at me, but I sensed it was more because he was lost in thought rather than anything else. The words clearly meant something to him. “Is that some kind of poem?” I asked.

“It’s a prayer…to Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit. The Lakota culture has deep roots in faith and believe in thanking the Great Spirit for everything on Earth.”

“Did your mother teach you that prayer?”

Mav lifted his eyes and shook his head. “She wasn’t around much when I was growing up. A friend taught me. I was hoping…” His voice trailed off and he dropped his eyes.

I knew I should let it go, but the pain coming off the man in front of me was palpable and I felt an almost unbearable need to take it from him. “You were hoping what?” I asked as I leaned forward and settled my hands over his where they were fisted on his lap.

“I was hoping to impress my grandfather. He ran the museum and cultural center on the reservation and was really traditional.” Mav let out a harsh chuckle. “I spent hours and hours getting it perfect.”

“What happened?”

“Like I said, traditional. Pure blood only.”

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