The Hand

It was two summers ago, a few days before I met the man that would become my husband, that I was privileged to hear a story which helped me more clearly understand some things about right relationships. I had gone to a campgrounds with a particular question in my mind and thinking that while I was there I'd be around somebody who would know about the pertinent subject and would be able to answer my question. The question was about an aspect of Native American spiritual teachings. There was a woman there, with whom I was acquainted, who was Indian, Cherokee, I think, so I waited for an appropriate moment and posed the question. She readily answered, and then hung back to leisurely finish breakfast at the table where I sat. When the other campers had left the table she told me she wanted to speak to me about something. She spoke about the maturation of my daughter into a young woman. We engaged in thoughtful conversation. She stressed that I am my daughter's primary teacher concerning womanhood. Then, her eyes became very focused and she said she felt the need to warn me about a spiritual danger that I faced in my own life.

She began to speak of a danger and two or three times asked me, "Do you understand?" as she attempted to make her points.

To this, I repeatedly replied, "No, I don't understand."

She appeared frustrated with our attempt to communicate, but I looked into her eyes and admitted, "I don't understand what you're talking about."

At this, she became quiet and took another approach. Her countenance changed and I felt she revealed herself to me as she would have within her own culture. Her face softened and she resumed speaking with a strong, quiet voice. She began to gesture with her hands as she told me a story that I will try to retell as I remember it.

She held out her hand and gestured over it, stating, "This is your life."

Then, she said, "I will tell you about the people who are safe to be in your life. This is what brings you power"

She brought together her fingertips and pressed them into the palm of the outstretched hand. "This is your family," she said, explaining to me that as many people could be in my family as I was able to hold and that the choice of who I hold in my family is mine alone.

"You can hold many people in the palm of your hand."

She talked about blood family: mother, father, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, children, grandchildren, and cousins. She went on to state that we take non-related people into our family, but that the relationships are the same, that it must be this way. Three people walked by who paused to greet her with hugs and affectionate words. When they moved on, she told me these were such people to her. The husband was her brother, the wife was her sister, and the child was a niece, though they were not blood relatives.

Then, she touched her four fingers and told me that these are special women friends, that there are four positions, and that if these positions are filled with the right friends this will give me strength. She said these people may come and go in my life for many different reasons and that I must be able to adjust and find others to fill the positions. She told me that there is only room for four of this kind of friend and that a woman needs all four of such female friends to develop her potential. They are companions on the spiritual journey and they each have a time and a purpose for traveling with me.

"There are no men in these positions."

She grasped her thumb, deep into the base.

"This is your man. There is only one. See how the thumb joins into the hand and how important it is? The hand is very limited without the thumb."

"When the thumb is severed from the hand there is a big injury. This represents your life. You have had a big injury, but there is a big healing possible and another man can come into your life. There is only one and he will be joined to you as the thumb is joined to the hand."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."