Dearest Friends
As we grow we learn many life lessons, many lessons teach us how to be strong, some lessons we learn are for the heart and some are the lessons of life. In my few but what feels like long years on this earth, many friends have come in and out of my life. Some friends have stayed and some have traveled onto other places weather that is the heavenly kingdom, or just traveling the separate roads that life gives us. I am thankful for those friends who have stuck with me and I am thankful for those friends who have traveled on. I thank God all the time for their friendship. As I ponder the reasoning of Chief Martin’s death, I come to understand that people come and go, but we always will meet in the afterlife. I posted a poem not too long ago about a person not being in their grave. It’s an old Native American Prayer:
INDIAN PRAYER
Do not stand at my grave & weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave & cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
- Author Unknown
I never got to deal with Chief Martin but I have come to know many people of the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians as friends, family, and people who I find are more complex than people give them credit for. These truly are the people of God. Just like my other friends the Native Americans have come in and out of my life, each one has a place in my heart, and their lessons will always remain there. One of the many things that were taught to me, taught to me by my good friend Doc is that we always respect the dead. I look at the earth so differently after working with these people. I went on to stay with the Kiowa Nation in Oklahoma with my good friend Doug and learned even more. Each tribe I meet helps me to grow. Although I am not Native American, I can say that Native Americans have greatly influenced my religion, philosophy, and general outlook on life.
If anything I wish the soul of Chief Martin peace. I know that his people will come together. The Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians Story is one of adversity and so is the story of the Kiowa Nation. I cannot explain the feeling I got meeting the first Gourd Dancers and dancing on the Kiowa reservation, the birth place of the Gourd Dance. Like many Native Americans I have come to know my friend Doug as not only a teacher, but a friend. If when I die I do not want people to grieve for me but rejoice in the fact that I have went home, home to the holy trinity, and home to lost relatives. I come from a third generation immigrant family and I am proud of that and I know I will meet my Celtic ancestors and drink with them as we celebrate a new beginning in the lord’s kingdom. Chief Martin may your soul always be at peace and know that your legacy will never be forgotten.
Post dedicated to Chief Phillip Martin,
Chief of the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indains.
