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A bit of the past

 

 

Many years ago, my husband was a doctor in the Public Health Service. His first assignment was to an Indian Reservation. Not your usual one. On the grounds were the hospital, a meeting place and the houses for the two doctors. I was thinking about this the other day and had to laugh at one of my experiences.

 

Several young men helped us move in. At that time I had long dark hair, and I do mean long. One of the young men said when you hear the drums at night, they’ll come for your hair. I laughed.

 

Two nights later, the drums began. The young man came to the house and asked us to come. I knew they weren’t going to take my hair but I was curious as to what they wanted. We took our small son in his little seat and followed. Part of this was a welcome ceremony for my husband. The other was to give gifts to a young man leaving for the army.  My son loved the drums and rocked his seat in time to the beating. The women clustered around him. This presented problems later when I would put him outside for some fresh air and sunshine. He tanned easily and the sun bleached his hair blonde. I had to keep a close eye on his because he would be stolen. :The “Blonde Indian,” the pwople called him.

 

But back to the gift giving. The gifts weren’t given directly to the young amn but made their way through the gift being given to someone who then gave the gift to someone else. Always as a thank you. Finally all ended up with the young man who was leaving. This really impressed em, and I saw how close the community was to each other. I will never forget my time in the small town and the friends I made there and the stories I heard.

 

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