Memories sail forth with power to save
Page 5
A Native Life
Tansi, ahnee and hello. When I was a boy I played in an old barn behind one of the places I called home. Saturday afternoons found us swinging from ropes strung from beams to land in heaped-up piles of straw. My friends and I spent hours chasing each other along those same beams in devil-may-care games of tag that always ended in flying leaps into those same piles of straw.
