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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Behind the Mask<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> "Spin us a tale," begged the young ones as they gathered around the tree where Grandmother Spider sat on her beautiful web, spinning silk to catch dreams. She paused in her work to teach the children to be wise. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>"Of what shall I weave your story?" asked the wise old teller of tales. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>"Oh make it about brave warriors," cried the boys.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>"No! About love and romance," begged the girls.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>"Ah, but sometimes they are in the same tale." laughed Grandmother Spider.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:2.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:2.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Listen my children and I will tell you a secret. My granddaughter Otterchild dances away laughing. Like quicksilver she is here but if you try to catch and hold her she slips away flashing her smile over a shoulder, lest you take offense that she chooses not to stay. Dancing, spinning, bubbling bubbling until she foams at the mouth and then she is gone, Leaving sunlight and laughter where she has passed. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> Sometimes Otterchild’s mask of joy slips and a fawn's eyes look out in recognition of another wounded soul. She pauses in her frantic dance to touch lightly the shy the one who doubts his worth. Her brief glance says I see you, I understand your pain. For a moment<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>She stands still forgetting to whirl out of reach. Who would guess that she sparkles to hide the darkness of hurt within? Who would guess that she flits out of reach for fear of being drawn too close and opening the door to betrayal and pain. You might count her as a flirt or a foolish butterfly. Delight in her<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Mischief, but don't try to tame her. She will only flit away, fearing to be trapped.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Among the young warriors there is one called Grey Owl. He does not boast, though <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>He is a good hunter. He is a quiet watcher and thinks carefully before he speaks. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>He is strong, silent and swift Gray Owl does not swagger like many others.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Warriors with names that contain Eagle or Hawk are proud and fierce and they sometimes discount those with gentler natures. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>One day, the young men were gathered at the edge of the camp. Some of them ran races on foot or on their fine ponies. A few sat playing a gambling game. They tried to outdo each other in telling tales of their exploits. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>As Otterchild’s quick small feet carried her to the stream for water the young men grew louder in their play and talk hoping to draw her glance. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>The young women gathered to scrape hides, cut meat into strips for drying into jerky and weave baskets to store food. Otter Child joined them and her laughter made the work go more quickly for the addition of her gaiety and clever hands. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>Little Elk rode by on his swift spotted pony. He felt proud that his horse had won all of the races. Otter Child dropped a chain of sunflowers her nimble fingers wove over the horse's neck. This made Little Elk puff out his chest in pride before the other young men. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>Otter Child laughed and said, "Your pony deserves to be honored for his swiftness! So I give him these flowers, but you only had to sit on his back. He was the one who did all of the work!"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>Coyote Singer and Buffalo Boy challenged each other to shoot arrows at a distant tree limb. Otter Child shook her head in wonder at the time they wasted. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>"Tree limbs don't run from the hunter like game and they don't put stew in the pot," she thought.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Gray Owl returned from hunting with an antelope across the withers of his pony. He cared for his tired horse. He divided the meat and distributed it to the lodges of the old an infirm who had no hunters. He made a gift of the hide to an old grandmother who had outlived all of her children. He made prayers of thanksgiving for his luck in the hunt. He sat down apart and played a song on his flute. He did not think anyone noticed his generosity to others and his respect for the life of the antelope or his care of his pony's needs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'> Otter Child saw and she weighed these things in her heart. Though Gray Owl set no snares to capture the wary maiden, his good heart and gentle nature worked to gain him the love the others could not win with all of their pride and raised voices. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>“Look with your heart as well as your eyes my children. For eyes can be fooled by the surface of things and fail to see behind the masks we all wear to guard our true selves.” So did Grandmother Spider council. </span><span style='font-size:14.0pt'><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Cell: 573-544-3511<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Email: <a href="mailto:dqnoriega@gmail.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>dqnoriega@gmail.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Author of <i>Fifty Years of Walking with Friends<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class=MsoNormal><i>https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>