BY IRON THUNDERHORSE

The tale that follows explains how the Blue Bonnet flower was gifted to the Comanche, yet it is also a fine tribute to a people who knew the meaning of self-sacrifice and survival. It is my own re-telling of a legend about a little girl, She-Who-Is-Alone, whose heart is as big as Texas and whose
spirit is as beautiful as the bluebonnet.

LONG AGO, the elders say, the Comanche people were as many as the grasses on the prairie. Each spring the Comanche would dance, sing and pray to the Great Spirit so the life-giving rain would come. But there came a time when the rains stopped and a great drought brought famine and death to the people. For three days the Comanche danced, the drums sounded, and the people sent their voices to the Great Spirit: "Great Spirit, the life-giving rains have not come to your people. The land is scorched, and your people are dying from hunger."

No signs were given in answer, so the people asked with humility: "We plead with you, Grandfather, save us. What have we done to make the Master-of-Life angry? What must we do to bring back the waters of life so that your people will live?" Again there was silence. The Comanche prayed; the Comanche danced; the Comanche watched and waited.

In the shadows of the lodges knelt a little girl-child known as She-Who-Is-Alone. In her lap she lovingly clutched a doll, made with care by her mother and beautifully decorated by her father. Such a wonderful cornhusk doll it was, with medicine paint, beaded leggings, bone-hair
breastplate and blue feathers from the tattletale bird who cries, "Jay, Jay."

She-Who-Is-Alone was a very sad little girl because she was always thinking about her mother and father, both taken by the famine to the Spirit Trail. She also thought of the grandparents she had never known, only heard of. This warrior doll was her only companion.

The Comanche had cared for her and sympathised with her grief. This little girl spoke to her doll as if it were a relation, and this day she said to her doll: "The medicine man is going up on the hill tonight to make council with the Great Spirit and make offerings of sage and sweetgrass. When he
returns we will know what to do." She-Who-Is-Alone held the warrior doll close to her heart. The girl-child and her doll watched the hill all that night, praying and hoping for success. The Great Sun set and then rose again while the shaman communed with the Great Spirit.

Then on the following day the village runner darted through the camp shouting, "The medicine man is coming down from the hill." The people gathered in a great circle to await his words.

After the customary smoking of the sacred pipe, offering it first to the four sacred directions, then to Mother Earth and Father Sky, the shaman rotated in a circle offering the smoke to unite everyone. Then he spoke.

"I have been honoured with a vision and words from the spirit world. The Great Spirit feels that our people have become selfish. The Comanche have taken much from our Earth Mother, giving little in return. This famine is a warning."

The people gasped in terror, and then he continued.

"The Master-of-Life says the Comanche people must make a sacrifice now to show our atonement. We must choose our most valued possession and offer it to Grandfather Fire; its ashes are to be scattered to the four winds. Only when the people have decided and made this offering will the rains return and the Earth Mother shall once more nourish her children."

The people rejoiced singing and dancing about. But then they began to consider what must be done.

A great warrior spoke: "I am sure the Great One does not demand my one and only bow. How else will I hunt or defend the people?"

"And I am sure the Great Spirit does not expect me to sacrifice my new blanket," cried a young woman, "Surely I will freeze to death."

On and on the excuses were made in the village until it was dark and everyone returned to the warmth of their lodges. Tomorrow was another day.

She-Who-Is-Alone could not sleep. In her heart of hearts she knew what must be done.

"You are my most valued possession," she murmured to the warrior doll. "It is you the Great Spirit wants." She knew exactly what she must do. Her parents had taught her well; she would not be selfish in spite of her great love for the memory of her parents. She must not allow any more death to darken her people's hearts as it did hers. She knew all too well the meaning of loneliness.

As the council fires began to die, this brave child crept silently toward the fire. The night was still except for the sounds of the nighthawk. The stars shone brightly as She-Who-Is-Alone removed a fire-stick and walked stealthily to the hill where the medicine man had spoken to the Great
Spirit.

After reaching the summit she knelt and spoke to the heavens. "O Great Spirit, I am a small girl-child, and I have only this cornhusk doll, but it is the most precious thing in the world to me. It is from my family who were taken to the Spirit Trail by the famine. Please, please accept this small
gift and allow your people to live."

Very quickly she gathered her twigs, setting fire to them with her torch. She thought about her parents and the love they had for her. She thought about her people and their suffering. Then she closed her eyes and cast her precious doll into the fire.

She-Who-Is-Alone waited and watched as Grandfather Fire consumed her offering. As the ashes grew cold she made a silent prayer, scooped up the ashes, casting them to the four winds, sighed, and then fell fast asleep there on the sacred hill.

The first light from Father Sun woke her from her dreams. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked down from the hill in wide amazement. On all four sides of the sacred hill she saw blankets of beautiful flowers--all as blue as the feathers of the tattletale bird who cries, "Jay, Jay." The flowers were growing wild as far as her eyes could see.

The Comanche people hurried out of their lodges and could hardly believe their eyes as they joined this wonderful girl-child coming down from the hill. A shower began to fall, blessing the Comanche people with the life-giving rain just as the Great Spirit had promised them.

The Comanche Nation rejoiced, and a great celebration was given in honour of the little girl who made a supreme sacrifice. Many gifts were given to her, and she was honoured with a new name by the medicine man.

"She-Who-Dearly-Loved-Her-People" remembered her parents and warrior doll now with great affection and pride.

And every spring from that day onward, the Great Spirit remembers the supreme sacrifice made by that small girl-child by covering the hills and valleys of the land called Tejas with beautiful blue flowers the colour of the tattletale bird who cries, "Jay, Jay."

This is the sign that the rains are coming, for now and forever.

From Karenshadowdancer - Via Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.