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From my chair to yours…

Just before my walk on a recent, lovely spring day, I spied a kite caught in a tree in front of my parking spot. I began wondering how the kite might be taken down before the birds began eating the material. After looking at the photo I had taken of the kite situation, I went into imagination mode.

Here is the story that wove itself together.

Once upon a time, very long ago, there was a village of ancient people. These people looked very different from other village people. They kept to their own and followed a peaceful life. This tribe of people were very pleasant and shared anything that was needed with anyone that needed help. They gave and received easily, as was their belief. They were tremendously grateful to the spirits for allowing them opportunities to share with others, even though this was rare. Their hearts were wise and pure. Hatred was alien to them.

One day, as they were living and performing their daily tasks and rituals, they heard screaming. Many of the tribe went running towards the sounds, growing in volume. It led them to the river that fed them, washed them, and blessed their days. Before them in the river were two young children shouting for their lives. Their bodies were racing down the river. As they watched, the children grabbed a large boulder and were hanging on. Without thinking, at once the people began grasping hands to create a human chain. Where they stood was high up, and to reach the level of the rushing water was very steep and dangerous.

Continuing to link hands, others would crawl down the ladder of bodies.

They reached the river and, with hands still being held, extended the human chain into the water towards the boulder. The children were barely hanging on. They were out of strength and about to let go. The hands of the people barely grabbing them, t they shouted, telling the children what they needed to do.

The children did not speak their language and didn’t understand. They were exhausted. The people saw the life force leaving the little ones and began their next step.

The people who were watching from high up realized what was needed. Acting as one mind, the men began taking off their pants, knotting them together, and quickly passed them down the line. The people in the water grabbed the pants and tied them around the children. Just at that moment , the children let go were .but held by the knotted pants, and hands that gathered them close. They passed the children one by one up the chain with hands that held them protectively. They carried their little bodies back to the village and lit the fires to heat the soup. The parents and families from the other village arrived. The celebrations began, and all made merry.

Strong relationships were established and hands were clasped in friendship. In time, the villages inter-married with each other. The children born were of a beauty not yet seen. These children were intelligent and loving. The original people from the village disappeared in time. No one knew where they had gone. It is still a mystery.

An inspirational workshop on photo inspired creative writing is being facilitated on-line by Kelly DuMar… In case you have any interest in finding out more, click anywhere on here to find out more. It begins April 16th, 2024 at 6:45 PM (EST) -8:45 PM.

Occasionally I will mention some areas I have engaged with personally; a book, workshop, group/organization that I believe would interest you. I do not receive any payment and I have no affiliate links.

Have a picture perfect week!

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