To which they replied, "Yes, granddaughter, it is time for you to go. You must first go to your father and ask for his blessing and then go to your mother and ask for her blessing. After you have done this, return here to this fire."
So he went to his father's lodge to receive his blessing. Along with his blessing his father gifted him with one finely crafted arrow. As he walked away his father wept for he knew he would never see his child again.
She then went to her mother's lodge to receive her blessing. Along with her blessing her mother gifted her with one finely crafted bow. As she walked away her mother wept for she knew she would never see her child again.
He returned to his grandmother and grandfather and they said, "Before the sun rises and anyone awakens you will leave this village into the east. Do not look back for there will be no fanfare for your departure. And remember grandson . . . listen to your own deep wisdom and that of your ancestors that echoes through the trees and rivers out there and you will find your way."
Before first light, she walked out of the village the way you walk out of a village when you are going on a journey to remember something long forgotten. She walked into the east; into the morning sunlight, into the wet dew on the ground, into the clear, cool air of spring. Walking some distance into the east, she came upon Eagle standing in an old oak. "Can you tell me where I can find this singing stone my grandmothers speak of?" she asked. Eagle replied, "I have heard of this one you seek; however, it is not here and I cannot tell you where to find it. I suggest you travel south and see what is there for you." Thanking Eagle for her words, he turned south.
Far into the South he walked, into the fire of midday sun, into warm southern winds, into dark green vegetation of summer. There he came upon Snake sunning on a large stone. "Can you tell me where I can find this singing stone my grandfathers speak of?" he asked. Snake replied, "I have heard of this one that you look for. However, it is not here and I cannot tell you were to find it. I suggest you go west and see what is there for you." Thanking Snake for his words, she turned west.
Into the West she walked, into the setting sun, into autumn leaves . . . bright colors on the ground. There in the west, by the waters of a river, she found Bear. "Can you tell me where I can find this singing stone my grandmothers speak of?" she asked. Bear replied, "I have heard that such a thing does exist. However, it is not here and I cannot tell you where to find it. I suggest you go into the north and see what is there for you." Thanking Bear for her words, he turned north.
Far into the north he traveled, into the deep snows of winter, into the cold, clear, dark night of silence, into the season of deep surrender and grace he walked. There, on a snow-covered meadow he came upon Buffalo. "Buffalo, I have searched the four corners of our land. I have grown weary from my search. Can you tell me where I can find this singing stone my grandfathers speak of?" he asked. "This singing stone you search for; yes, I have heard of this one, however it is not here and I cannot tell you where to find it. I suggest you go up on the mountain for four days and nights and pray to creator and to your ancestors and see what is there for you." He thanked Buffalo for his words and made his way up the mountain. Four days and nights he sat on that mountain in prayer. As he greeted that sun on last morning he was clear that he must return to his village. He offered his gratitude to the spirit of the mountain and she turned toward home.
She walked toward her village, the way you walk back into a village when you have been on a great journey, looking to find something long forgotten. As he neared the village, she heard voices moving down the creek the way voices do move down creeks deep in the forest. Coming closer now, he recognized these voices to be singing something. She could not yet make out the words. Rounding the bend, he saw family, friends, children, and village elders standing on both sides of the path. Seeing their smiling faces, she could hear their words clearly now! All together singing! "Welcome home, Singing Stone. Welcome home, Singing Stone."
That night, Singing Stone dreamed she was sitting by a council fire with Eagle, Snake, Bear, and Buffalo. Singing Stone expressed much gratitude for their lives and the medicine they had offered him. Buffalo replied, "Granddaughter, do not thank us with your words. Let the way in which you live your life be your thanks and this we will see. Go well, Singing Stone. Go well."
The "bare white unembellished bones" of this story were told to me by Stephen Foster, author of Book of Vision Quest, many years ago. Its original source is of anonymous Native American ancestry. I have taken a storyteller's poetic license in the retelling of this story to you as it lives and breathes through me. I offer my deep gratitude to the hearts and lands from which it came.
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