A young girl played in the shallow waters of the stream her village was set beside for the season. Her mother washed the family clothing at the water's edge. Not far away, the water got deeper along the shore. Tall reeds grew in the sticky mud that formed in rocky places all along the flow. Flat boulders made a place to pile dirty things or to lay them out once clean to dry in the sunlight. A few fish swam by chasing bugs, or other things, in the water. Dragonflies skittered along the water's surface, making buzzing sounds with their wings. A fish might swoop up and eat one that flew too close to the water. The season was early summer. Soon it was getting later in the day. Her mother called for her to come and help. The washing was done now. They needed to carry it all back and help get the meal going for the evening. She always dropped something at the worst possible moment, but her mother smiled and told her to try harder the next time. The small girl wasn't the most nimble laundry toter.
They carried everything back to their tent. The girl helped sort things and put them away. Then the impatient girl begged her mother to let her leave to catch some food from the river for the evening meal. She was excused and ran back to the water, smiling and giggling. She was exceptionally good at catching the crayfish that hid among the reeds and rocks in the calmer muddy shoreline areas. The pincers never stopped her from scooping them up and dropping them into a small basket. She wove it herself with a load of instruction from her mother. Her mother made a new good basket for her one night and replaced the old one without the girl noticing. Her original basket had 'issues' in its making. She soon had plenty of the pinchy little things for the meal. She caught the same as how many toes and fingers she had and then stopped. She only kept the big ones, and they added a nice touch of flavor and meat to the evening meals. Her mother was glad she loved catching them and was so good at it. Those aquatic things were scary to her and made her uneasy when handling them for the meal until they were dead and cooked to yumminess.
She still didn't have a name for her daughter yet. No name she considered felt right. The girl had yet to show any sign of what her call was. Still, she was always perky, and her behavior gave her mother and the others in the tribe a smile whenever she was around them. She was often contagious in her cheerfulness. That evening they ate under the stars. In colder weather, they would always eat indoors. Now, with the warmer air and smoke from the campfires keeping the bugs away, they would enjoy the night skies while dining on what the land provided, including the delicious crayfish. They were always appreciated once they were cooked, even by her mother. She wasn't fond of them when they threatened her angrily with their nasty pinchy claws, but they were welcome in her tummy.
They ate the fresh-cooked meal together. The daughter soon started to hum and then softly sing. It was pretty to hear, and soon the tune was carrying around the fire and being sung by all. She then sang of the stars and their eternal songs. They were up in the sky realm, and they were always singing. They were always looking down and singing to her, twinkling and blinking. It was a simple tune and was soon picked up and carried around more campfires until the chief heard it and started to backtrack its source through the people. He knew what source gave rise to songs like this. As their chief, it was his authority to discover who was so blessed.
He walked over to the fire, and everyone went quiet except for the girl. She, instead, got up and went to the chief while she was still singing. She sang her song for him until he sang it with her. It was beautiful and made him smile, and then she stopped. "That was a present to us from the stars. They talk to me and sing to me all the time. I just wanted to share it because that is the right thing to do. It is for all of us, from the stars. They want us to be happy!" she explained. The chief smiled into her eyes and then at her mother. "Star Joy. That is who you are. It is long since one with an ear for the stars has been with us. You are a gift to us all, young one. A gift from the spirits in the heavens. Thank you for that wonderful song. Thank you for bringing us all their joy." He spoke this and then nodded to her mother. "Your family is blessed to have this one. Care well for her!" He then walked off back to his tent. He continued to hum the new tune long into the night.
Star Joy had a name, and it fit her all too well. She made others smile and lightened their burdens, especially during times of struggle. She was a star in the darkest sky to her tribe. Everyone fell in love with her as a source of unstoppable joy and sweet innocence. She would sometimes be asked to sing for the chief. It helped him see things from a perspective of peace and happiness, of acceptance that life was life. The tribe became more of a family unit and less of a close group of people living together as she would sing the songs that the stars taught her. Her mother was proud of her, though the gift added nothing, of its own, to their physical needs. Tending to the spirit's needs was as important as seeing to the belly. The tribe had a new heartbeat now in her. It grew stronger as Star Joy grew into a fine young woman.
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River Guide: Pawprints on the Riverbank
Historical FictionIn the early 1800s, the aftermath of a flooded flatland brings together two unlikely struggling survivors who are counted as lost until they find each other.
