[Critique Group 1] Leonard's belated comments on DeAnna's sub

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Deanna sub for Feb




 


Goodtale,toldinatraditionalway.  



I like the lesson oflooking beyond  the façade to the heartwhich lies hidden at times.  



Even Otter child  had a hidden side.  



Her gayity hidvulnerability. 



I think the darknessinside that flirty façade was the true treasure.  



Though she used thatpart of her to almost touch the one’s which displayee it.  



Owl was the vbalancedone. 



A combination of prowessand quietude. 



He was the true hero. 



I wonder how he andotter child would get on together.  




 


 .
            "Spinus a tale," begged the young ones as they gathered around the tree whereGrandmother Spider sat on her beautiful web, spinning silk to catch dreams. Shepaused in her work to teach the children to be wise. 



 



"Of what shall I weave your story?" asked the wise oldteller of tales.



 



"Oh make it aboutbrave warriors," cried the boys.



 



"No! About love andromance," begged the girls.



 



"Ah, but sometimesthey are in the same tale." laughed Grandmother Spider.



 



Listen my children and Iwill tell you a secret. My granddaughter  Otterchild dances awaylaughing.  Like quicksilver she is here but if you try to catch and holdher she slips away flashing her smile over a shoulder, lest you take offensethat she chooses not to stay. Dancing, spinning, bubbling bubbling until shefoams at the mouth and then she is gone, Leaving sunlight and laughter whereshe has passed.



 



           Sometimes Otterchild’s mask of joy slips and a fawn's eyes look out inrecognition of another wounded soul. She pauses in her frantic dance to touchlightly the shy the one who doubts his worth. Her brief glance says I see you,I understand your pain.  For a moment



She stands stillforgetting to whirl out of reach.  Who would guess that she sparkles tohide the darkness of hurt within?  Who would guess that she flits out ofreach for fear of being drawn too close and opening the door  to betrayaland pain. You might count her as a flirt or a foolish butterfly.  Delightin her



Mischief, but don't tryto tame her.  She will only flit away, fearing to be trapped.



           



Among the young warriorsthere is one called Grey Owl.  He does not boast, though



He is a goodhunter.  He is a quiet watcher and thinks carefully before hespeaks. 



He is strong, silent and swift Gray Owl does not swagger like many others.



Warriors with names thatcontain Eagle or Hawk are proud and fierce and they sometimes discount thosewith gentler natures.  



 



One day, the young menwere gathered at the edge of the camp.  Some of them ran races on foot oron their fine ponies.  A few sat playing a gambling game.  They triedto outdo each other in telling tales of their exploits. 



As Otterchild’s quicksmall feet carried her to the stream for water the young men grew louder intheir play and talk hoping to draw her glance. 



 



The young women gatheredto scrape hides, cut meat into strips for drying into jerky and weave basketsto store food.  Otter Child joined them and her laughter made the work gomore quickly for the addition of her gaiety and cleverhands.    



 



Little Elk rode by onhis swift spotted pony.  He felt proud that his horse had won all of theraces.  Otter Child dropped a chain of sunflowers her nimble fingers woveover the horse's neck.  This made Little Elk puff out his chest in pridebefore the other young men. 



 



Otter Child laughed andsaid, "Your pony deserves to be honored for his swiftness!  So I givehim these flowers, but you only had to sit on his back.  He was the onewho did all of the work!"



 



Coyote Singer and Buffalo Boy challenged each other to shootarrows at a distant tree limb.  Otter Child shook her head in wonder atthe time they wasted. 



"Tree limbs don'trun from the hunter like game and they don't put stew in the pot," shethought.



 



Gray Owl returned fromhunting with an antelope across the withers of his pony.  He cared for histired horse.  He divided the meat and distributed it to the lodges of theold an infirm who had no hunters.  He made a gift of the hide to an oldgrandmother who had outlived all of her children.  He made prayers ofthanksgiving for his luck in the hunt.  He sat down apart and played asong on his flute.  He did not think anyone noticed his generosity toothers and his respect for the life of the antelope or his care of his pony'sneeds.



 



           Otter Child saw and she weighed these things in her heart. Though Gray Owl setno snares to capture the wary maiden, his good heart and gentle nature workedto gain him the love the others could not win with all of their pride andraised voices. 



 



“Look with your heart aswell as your eyes my children.  For eyes can be fooled by the surface ofthings and fail to see behind the masks we all wear to guard our true selves.”So did Grandmother Spider council.



 



 



DeAnna Quietwater Noriega



Cell: 573-544-3511



Email: dqnoriega at gmail.com



Author of Fifty Years of Walking withFriends



https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/



 



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