“Not another rainy day!!” Trula stomped her feet and threw herself on the couch and sulked.
Her nana rocked by the window and pointed her finger at her grand-daughter, “Child, you take each day as it comes. You cannot command the universe or turn your back to what the Great Spirit hands you each day. You will regret it some day.” Holding her wooden beads, she whispered softly to herself but the only audible words were “protect her”.
Trula rolled her eyes and scowled at her nana. Year after year, it was the same thing when it was cloudy, raining, snowing or windy, Trula made a scene and refused to study and as she got older refused doing chores on the farm.
Several years later her nana died, when Trula was twenty-one. The family buried her on the farm near an old oak tree where Nana used to sit and read for hours and later when her eyes failed her, she would pray and smile up at the sky giving thanks to the Great Spirit for each new day.
A few days after the burial, Trula was planting seeds in the garden and suddenly the sky turned dark. An odd-looking cloud loomed over her and the wind picked up dramatically. Trula rose her fist to the sky in protest when suddenly she felt her feet lift from the ground and long tendrils pulling at her shoulder and head; a huge CRACK resonated from the sky muffling the sound of a broken neck.
the universe rules, appreciate each day rain or shine
The little prince would wake up before the servants so he could watch the sun rise. He would run out into the field, such a little tyke of only five and sit crossed legged in the darkness and wait. The sun peeked slowly through dark clouds and he felt the ground tremble under him …a steady drumming until the sun shone on his face. He heard singing in a language he did not understand but the voices came from children he could not quite see. He imagined cherubs smiling and floating around him…he remembers Mother showing him images of these “angels”, she called them.
He would run back home and climb back into bed and pretend to be asleep when Mother came in to kiss him good morning.
“Come, child, it is time for your singing lessons.” He jumped out of bed so excited to learn more. His spirit seemed to soar when he sang. The lesson lasted three hours and for a child his age it was like an entire day. The rest of the day he went out to play in the field with the children of servants until sunset…
At that moment he would run away from the children to his special spot he usually sat early mornings and looked at the sun dip into the horizon. The trembling was not there, the singing was not either, only the faint sound of a flute that seemed to cry softly bringing tears to his eyes as Mother Nature bid him good night.
morning sunshine earth shudders…`tis time message in the glow enchanting chorus echoes communion of their souls